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YSCRAPERS 


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From a photograph by Pirie MacDonald 


SKYSCRAPERS 


AND THE MEN WHO BUILD THEM 


BY 
COL. W. A. STARRETT 


M=EMBER AMERICAN SOCIETY CIVIL ENGINEERS, MEMBER AMERICAN SOCIETY 
MECHANICAL ENGINEERS 


AUTHOR OF “‘ MARKED ‘SHOP,’ ” ATLANTIC MONTHLY, JULY, 1917; ‘“‘ BUILDING FOR VICTORY.” 
SCRIBNER’S, NOVEMBER, I918; ‘* NEW CONSTRUCTION IN AN ANCIENT EMPIRE,” 
SCRIBNER’S, SEPTEMBER, 1923, ETC. 


WITH ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-TWO ILLUSTRATIONS 


CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 
NEW YORK ;, LONDON 
1928 


Corvricut, 1928, 3y 
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 


Printed n the United States of 


a Ft oe 
See! tA Sette & 


CHAPTER 


XVI. 


CONTENTS 


AMERICA CREATES SOMETHING ABSOLUTELY 
NEW—THE SKYSCRAPER 


Earty History. 
THE First SKYSCRAPER 


LaTtTER DEVELOPMENTS CREATE AN ARCHI- 
TECTURAL OTYLE . 


BUILDING A SKYSCRAPER 

PLANNING AND FORETHOUGHT 
Contract RELATIONS 

IMPORTANCE OF DESIGN 

DeEsIGN AFFECTED BY ZONING Laws. 
Types or BUILDERS 


THE Goop OLtp Days, anp DEMOLITIONS 
OLp anp NEw 


EXcAVATIONS, SHORING AND BRACING 
FOUNDATIONS OF VARIOUS SorRTS. 
STRUCTURAL STEEL IN THE MAKING . 
STEEL ERECTION AND DERRICKS . 


SKYSCRAPER BUILDING-STONE - 
vii 


PAGE 


jips 


190 


vill 


CHAPTER 


XVII. 


XVIII. 
XIX. 
XX. 
LOG 
XXII. 
XXIII. 
XXIV. 
XXV. 
XXVI. 


CONTENTS 


Brick, TERRA-COTTA AND THE CERAMICS— 
THE TECHNIC OF CERAMIC MAsonry . 


INTERIOR STRUCTURE 

We ComMENCE TO FINISH. 

Tue Decorative INTERIOR AND FINISH 
MECHANICAL INSTALLATION 

LABOR AND BUILDING 

Mopern BuILpinc-TRADES APPRENTICESHIP 
FINDING OuT THE CosT 

Jos ORGANIZATION AND DISCIPLINE . 


PROBLEMS OF THE FUTURE 


INDEX 


PAGE 
213 
238 
254 
269 
280 
286 
395 
aT2 
329 
335 


aa 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Mommemyve we statrett . 2 ke  .. Brontisptiece 
PAGE 

The Savoy-Plaza, the Sherry-Netherland, and the See ae 
Building, New York... 5 

Machinery Hall in the Centennial and World’s Fair fee 
Risteape 2 ste. ieee iaihe a acces oe 2 earls 
Merereeeemnicss hair buildings... 6. ko es OY 
State buildings at the Expositions of 1876 and 1892-3. . Ig 


The first steel-skeleton skyscraper, Chicago. Westminster 
Hotel, Boston, and Wanamaker’s Store, New York. . 23 


Double-deck streets, Chicago. Russ Building, San Francisco 31 
Semeeetctitames inew buildings . . . . . . . . 3% 


New York Life Insurance Company Building partly finished 39 


Central Savings Page Oariands Gal fioce om eae eee 8 ag 
General Motors Building, Detroit, Mich... . . . . . 39 
merece rertvatorimachinery ©. oo tse ee A ee 
Demolishing the old Harper Building, New York . . . 44 
heme pullding operations in Japan. ..... . .  .. $3 
erm ie 1) | aApan so ks aE Se a 8 
imemanipies.ol japanese architecture: .°© . i). « . SS 
fermeeeeevectaper in Lokio... 6°. (a Ay Wee SF 
iraneoorony steel by bullock teams, Japan. . . +... 57 
New York Life Insurance Co. Building, New York . . . ~~ 65 


Building on steel stilts, New York. Washington Square, 
Oh Lue SS Seen even Me Neer ep Scan OE at tie WL GA aCe: 


ix 


X ILLUSTRATIONS 


Paramount and Equitable Trust Buildings, New York . . “ie 
Chicago Temple Building, Soya The Foshay Tower, 
Minneapolis 2.27, 3 oa aS een 
Harkness Memorial, Yale University . . . . . . . a8 
Foundation of the New York Life Insurance Building . . 77 
Underpinning and excavating in two Detroit buildings . . 79 
Underpinning. Open caisson. Pretesting a footing . . . 85 
Eight West 4cth Street, New York. . ~ 7) 3 eee 
Airplane view with skyscrapers drawn in . 2 9) 
Isometric study and scale model, Wall and Haceves Street 
Building ... 0.) 6 a. 
Outside scaffold containing temporary hoists | 7) 4) eee 
Driving concrete piles . 9 . . 2 
Sinking caissons .  . +... 2) 3) S00 
Shoring, bracing and setting steel at one time 9) ne 
Driving steel cylinders for foundations err 137 


“Chicago Wells”? carried down by the open caisson method 137 


Compressed air operation in a caisson job |) a= aa 
Open caisson with edges of steel sheet piling. 9) aes 
Concrete delivered by special revolving-drum truck. . . 160 
Two early processes of Open Hearth smelting . . . . 163 
Pouring and stripping steel ingots . | — 9) 220s). 
Rolling the white-hot ingot . 9... |) ee 
Final processes in the bridge and fabricating shop . . . 169 


Riveters working high in the air. .  -) )30= een 


ILLUSTRATIONS Xl 


PAGE 
BuEpierersckercadysoraction . 9. .° . >. . . «+ 1979 


Setting a 155-ton truss in the Paramount Building, New York 181 
Meterrick alter falling twenty-two stories. . . . . . I8! 
Stiff-leg derricks used for the Hudson River Bridge towers . 187 
Beerremrrractionisetting trusses .° . . . . . . . 189 
eereaie ami cramte ~ «9... kw QI 


Setting the Lincoln statue, Lincoln Memorial, Washington.  Ig1 


Granite cutting by pneumatic hand tools and machinery . 193 
Sereueie colonngde, Lincoln Memorial. . . . . =. 198 
PeweeeGrencd pranite quarry at Concord, N.H.. . . .. 195 
iestoNene fe a ee 207 
emeemmetiieancuncut stone . . ..-.. . .) . . ,203 
Perett@necuuing by machinery ... . . . >...» 208 
Rep a aTAtUS ©) ye ee ee RTO 
Beererirenarea brick lay-out’. . . . 9. . ». 214 
Mu menemrteisnebONd~.) 5. 2 ee oe RL 24 
Mixture of English and Flemish bond, and American bond. 215 
Two interesting variations of Flemish bond . . . . . 217 
Topping out a building. Bricklayingin winter . . . . 223 
Burning of wooden scaffolding, Sherry-Netherland Hotel . 225 
SDD erscatOlding Sh Be Pe 225 
Wiouldineg terra-cotta and preparing for fring. . . . .. 227 
Making hollow tile fire-proofing. Clay mine and kilns. . 229 


Assembling a terra-cotta arch. Modellers at work . . . 231 


xii bebbee ILLUSTRATIONS © 


Finished terra-cotta columns odo em 
Blowing terra-cotta slip before burning Fe 
Bronze work’. +) 4a ee 
Crushing and firing Portland cement . 


Lime and gypsum quarries . . a 


FOREWORD 


In the preparation of this volume the author has made no 
attempt to present a technical treatise on building, nor has he 
had any thought of covering all of the aspects of construction 
work. Many important elements have been referred to only 
casually, and, in fact, many subjects incidental to skyscraper 
construction have been omitted altogether. 

The purpose of the book is to give the reader a general idea 
of the planning and construction of a skyscraper, the essentials 
of its origin, and the administration and functioning of a mod- 
ern building organization, avoiding wherever possible techni- 
calities that have already been ably covered by architects and 
engineers in the voluminous bibliography of modern American 
construction. 

The volume has been prepared for the layman who watches 
with interest, and perhaps fascination, the skyscraper in course 
of construction and desires to know something of the funda- 
mentals that govern the work without too deeply delving into 
its technic. 

In spite of the vast amount of construction that is every- 
where in evidence in our growing cities there seems to be much 
about the subject that is not generally understood. If the read- 
er’s understanding and appreciation of building are quickened 
by the subject matter of this volume, the author’s object will 
have been attained. 


WHISTLES 
C. D. CHAMBERLIN 


The clean-up gang is finished—the last shanty’s coming down; 
We’ve punched our last big payroll out—let’s hunt another town. 
There’s a million smoky whistles, wheezing gods that we obey, 
And the order that they’re screaming is “Builders! On your way!” 
So, 

Let’s speed—speed—speed! 

Out to where the whistles plead, 

Wailing at their toiling mob, 

Laughing at the lives they rob, 

Sneering at the biggest job, 

There’s work to do. Let’s GO! 


Jack-hammers singing like the whining choirs of Hell, 
Gouging out the bed-rock and a deep foundation well; 
Dynamite and steam drills are eating granite rock, 
For a city wants a subway and it’s work against the clock! 
So, 

Let’s go—go—go! 

Out to where the whistles blow, 

Yelling out for men to build, 

Sobbing for the men they’ve killed, 

Boasting of the jobs they’ve filled, 

There’s work to do. Let’s GO! 


Rivet-guns thundering in an iron-chested roar, 
Punching white-hot clinchers on the forty-seventh floor; 
Cable-hoists and air lines are stitching boiler plate; 
Some one wants a fifty-decker—and they want it while they wait. 
So, 
Let’s climb—climb—climb! 

X1V 


WHISTLES XV 


Up to where the whistles chime, 
Begging for the men they need, 
Roaring at each mighty deed, 
There’s work to do. Let’s GO! 


Concrete-mixers rumbling in a heavy, sullen moan, 
Chewing rock and gravel up and spitting liquid stone. 
Crusher blades and shovels are making boulders bounce; 
Quick! A dam to light the cities! —Time is all that counts. 
So, 

Lets rush—rush—rush! 

Where the whistles never hush, 

Shrieking shrill their frantic plea, 

Shouting loud for you and me, 

Booming “Builders! Can’t you see 

There’s work to do? Let’s GO! 


The author of the above poem appeared at Dartmouth College with 
his kit of carpenter’s tools, and worked his way through by following his 
trade; in summer finding employment as a carpenter on large construc- 
tion work. He wrote the poem while at college in pursuit of his study 
of English, and by chance it fell into the hands of the author of this 
volume. 

The inspiration of the great modern construction job is so completely 
caught by the poem that it is here given, with grateful acknowledgment 
to the author’s genius in producing so vivid a picture of the spirit of 
modern building. 


WHO BUILD THEM 


are 
exe 


‘fr 


CrrAPlLER. | 


AMERICA CREATES SOMETHING ABSOLUTELY NEW— 
DHE SKYSCRAPER 


TuE skyscraper is the most distinctively American thing in 
the world. It is all American and all ours in its conception, 
all important in our metropolitan life; and it has been con- 
ceived, developed and established all within the lifetime of 
men who are, in many cases, still active in the great calling 
which they themselves created and which they have devel- 
oped within the span of their business careers. 

I have seen the unfolding of practically the whole drama 
myself, for while I have just passed the half century in years, 
I have keen recollections of the building of the first skyscraper 
that could truly bear the name in the modern acceptance of 
that term. For the skyscraper, to be a skyscraper, must be con- 
structed on a skeleton frame, now almost universally of steel, 
but with the signal characteristic of having columns in the 
outside walls, thus rendering the exterior we see simply a 
continuous curtain of masonry penetrated by windows; we 
call it a curtain wall. This seemingly continuous exterior is 
supported at each floor by the beams or girders of that floor, 
with the loads carried to the columns embedded in that same 
masonry curtain, unseen but nevertheless absolutely essential 
to the towering heights upon which we gaze with such ad- 
miration and awe—and pride, our everlasting pride in our 
completely American creation. We use these skyscrapers and 
accept them as a matter of course, yet as each new one rears 
its head, towering among its neighbors, our sense of pride and 

1 


g SKYSCRAPERS 


appreciation is quickened anew, and the metropolis, large or 
small, wherein it is built, takes it as its very own, and uncom- 
plainingly endures the rattle and roar of its riveting hammers, 
and the noises and the inconvenience of traffic which it brings. 
And this is because we recognize it as another of our distinc- 
tive triumphs, another token of our solid and material growth. 

But our pride of civic acquisition is small compared with 
the pride we take in our ability to build, for when a great build- 
ing starts, all the world is a builder and the whole citizenry of 
a metropolis takes to its heart the swift and skilful accomplish- 
ment. The drama as it unfolds excites wonder and admiration, 
and those of us who have taken part in the creation and pro- 
duction of the drama have a pride and joy that is just what 
would be imagined by the enthusiastic spectator who gazes 
with admiration at some feat of skill and daring performed be- 
fore his very eyes as he looks on from a vantage point, and per- 
haps sees nature used against its very self in the accomplish- 
ment of a spectacular bit of work. 

How it all started, and who the men were who brought it 
all about, is a fascinating tale and one full of dramatic interest. 
Nations and civilizations may rise and fall and historians of 
the far distant future may say that we were not many things 
that we now think we are, but one thing is certain: they will 
of a surety say that we were a nation of builders, great build- 
ers, the greatest that the world had ever seen up to the era of 
our sudden greatness in construction. Yet a single lifetime can 
claim to have seen it all from its inception, through its develop- 
ment, and well matured in its accomplishment—distinctive 
from all other great world accomplishments in that it is, let me 
say again, essentially and completely American, so far sur- 
passing anything ever before undertaken in its vastness, swift- 
ness, utility, and economy that it epitomizes American life and 
American civilization, and, indeed, has become the corner- 
stone and abode of our national progress. 


AMERICA CREATES SOMETHING NEW 3 


An architectural style, or indeed, many styles, have been 
created by our great metropolitan skyscrapers, but all are es- 
sentially American. The beauties of ancient architecture have 
been made to serve this new form and the perfections of the 
ancients have been confirmed by their adaptability to the great 
solutions of our modern buildings, but the form is ours and it 
has taken its place with the classics. If we never build another 
building, if we:never make another design, posterity will have 
to accord us the creation of a great, new architectural style 
fixed beyond all changing. For America has already been won 
the title of the greatest builder that the world has ever seen. 

For fifty-two years Trinity Church steeple was the zenith of 
the New York sky-line, two hundred and eighty-four feet 
above Broadway. Visitors to New York paid their shilling each 
to climb the three hundred and eight steps, “‘with suitable 
resting places provided,” to a point thirty-four feet below the 
peak, and from there looked down on a city limited, as from 
ancient times, by the feeble power of the unassisted human 
leg, to a height of six stories; a city hemmed about and bullied 
by the towering masts of Pingieds of sailing ships. 

Trinity Church was built in 1841 and was unchallenged 
until 1893, when, across the street, the Manhattan Life In- 
surance Building, seventeen stories and tower, thrust its pin- 
nacle sixty feet above Trinity spire. In another fifteen years 
the steeple had sunk almost without trace beneath the soaring 
sky-line. 

The skyscraper, once possessed of only the beauty of power, 
has acquired the beauty of line and form as well. Who can 
look on the majestic sky-line of New York in sunshine or shad- 
ow and not be moved, both by the tremendous power of its 
mass and the beauty and richness of its detail? Yet if you are 
forty-three years or more old, your eyes have seen it all. 

The skyscraper was conceived and demonstrated by a little 
group of architects, engineers, and builders in one American 


4 SKYSCRAPERS 


city. That city was not New York, with which the world 
usually identifies it, but Chicago. 

When I sought to confirm and to supplement my own 
memory of the history of the skyscraper, I found that no book 
ever had been written on its history. So far as I can learn, the 
only attempt ever made to trace its origins and development 
was done by Robins Fleming, a veteran and scholarly structural 
engineer of the American Bridge Company. I am indebted to 
Mr. Fleming’s researches for many of the facts in this examina- 
tion of the neglected family tree of an American institution. 

The great pioneers of the skyscraper were William Le- 
Baron Jenney, Daniel H. Burnham, John W. Root, and Wil- 
liam Holabird, pretty much in the order named. Other Chi- 
cagoans contributed, but these four were chiefs. Jenney alone 
was classically educated in architecture, and he arrived by a 
roundabout route. He was born in New Bedford, his father 
head of Jenney & Gibbs, a great whale-oil house when the 
world still read by the light of the sperm whale’s fat. He 
left Andover at seventeen and in one of his father’s whalers 
sailed around the Horn to join the rush of ’49 to California. 
Later, in the Philippines, he was so struck with the possibili- 
ties of railroad building in the islands that he resolved to re- 
turn home and study engineering. 

After three years at Lawrence Scientific School, he went to 
Paris and there was an intimate of Whistler and Du Maurier. 
In the 50’s he was an engineer employed in building the 
Panama Railroad. When the Civil War broke out, he joined 
the army under General William Tecumseh Sherman and 
eventually became Sherman’s chief of engineers on the march 
from Atlanta to the sea. In 1868 he returned to Chicago and 
took up the practice of architecture. 

A year or so later, Daniel H. Burnham alighted in that 
city from a cattle train from the West. Born at Henderson, 
New York, in 1846, he had failed to pass the entrance exami- 


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nations at both Harvard and Yale, and had gone to Nevada 
on a mad French colonization scheme; he had remained as a 
miner and a contemporary of Mark Twain in the grand days 
of Virginia City, had run for state senator, been defeated, and 
eventually made his way to Chicago as best he could. There 
he became interested in architecture, sold plate glass in the 
boom market that followed the great fire in 1871, and finally 
became a draftsman for Carter, Drake & Wight. Wight was 
himself a building genius and the works he has left indicate 
that he visioned the development that was about to follow. 
The head draftsman there was John W. Root, who was later 
to become Burnham’s partner in the firm of Burnham & Root. 
Root was a Georgian, his father a dry-goods merchant, of 
frustrated longings to be an architect, who had made a for- ~ 
tune in blockade-running during the Civil War. In the midst 
of the war the son was smuggled out of Wilmington, North 
Carolina, on a cotton ship that slipped past the guns of the 
Federal fleet, and was put in school in England. Later he was 
studying engineering in the College of the City of New York 
and was headed for the Ecole des Beaux Arts, when the family 
fortune was lost as quickly as it had been gained and the stu- 
dent went to work in a Chicago architect’s office. John W. 
Root died in 1891 in the first promise of a great career. 
William Holabird was the son of General Samuel B. Hola- 
bird, quartermaster general of the army. Too young to enter 
the army at the outbreak of the Civil War, he finished high 
school at St. Paul, spent two years at West Point and then, 
like so many of his generation, cast in his lot with Chicago, 
where he studied in various architects’ offices between 1875 
and 1880. | 
I was a boy in Chicago when the first skyscrapers rose. I 
knew most of the architects and engineers who devised and 
erected them, and served as a cub under some of them. I come 
of a family of builders, one of five brothers who have designed 


AMERICA CREATES SOMETHING NEW 7 


and built a vast number of skyscrapers throughout the United 
States and Canada, and indeed, a few in the Orient and some 
in Cuba. Three of the five were pupils of Daniel H. Burnham 
—“Uncle Dan,” as he was affectionately called—one of the 
fathers of the skyscraper and master builders of America. 
One brother was for twenty-five years with the George A. 
Fuller Company, for many of those years its president. An- 
other brother founded the Thompson-Starrett Company. 
These two competitive firms pioneered the new profession of 
builder and between them have constructed more skyscrapers, 
probably, than any other half dozen building organizations. 
A third brother, with Ernest A. Van Vleck, founded the 
architectural firm of Starrett & Van Vleck. All three con- 
cerns continue to be leaders in the industry, though no Star- 
rett remains in any. My brother Paul, former head of the 
Fuller Company, and I, with Andrew J. Eken, whose family 
name is so much like my mother’s as to suggest a distant re- 
lationship, now form a fourth company—Starrett Brothers, 
builders, of New York; while Ralph, at the head of another 
oncoming generation of Starrett builders in Chicago, has the 
Starrett Building Company, in which we are also interested. 
And as if to preserve an unbroken family tradition, both our 
sisters married builders, who have given impetus to that tra- 
dition by the prominent structures they have erected on the 
Pacific Coast. 

The family tradition has it that my father’s father was a 
builder, and his father before him, in the country around 
Pittsburgh and Allegheny, Pennsylvania. They were farm- 
ing and preaching folk of Scotch origin, skilled carpenters, 
and perhaps stonemasons, who farmed in season, preached, 
and taught school. My father, whose name I bear, while he 
had a skilful hand and an appreciation of building, took to 
the ministry, and the close of the Civil War found him in 
charge of a frontier Presbyterian church in Lawrence, Kansas, 


8 SKYSCRAPERS 


when Quantrell and his men sacked the town and massacred 
most of its male population. There he had taken his school- 
teacher bride, Helen Martha Ekin, and there the family of 
seven was reared, in the simplicity and hardihood of those 
early Kansas days, where the minister was too often paid in 
supplies, and even the sight of money was sometimes a rarity. 

Among my father’s first acts was to start building a church, 
still standing, I believe. He interested himself in the founding 
of Kansas University and had to do with the first university 
building. Then he started to build his own house, a solid, 
adequate structure of native stone with considerable effort at 
design of his own creation. Those were the days in that coun- 
try when men largely built their own houses, and much of 
the work was done with his own hands and with the juvenile 
assistance of my elder brothers. Every part of it reflected his 
care and thought in arrangement and design. Up to a few 
years ago the old house was standing and perhaps still re- 
mains. Like many another, it passed through its vicissitudes. 
For a while it was a hospital; then, in the slump of a Kansas 
depression, it became a tenement, sheltering several families; 
then it lay vacant for a long while with leaky roof and doors 
and shutters awry, the windows shattered and its dilapidation 
almost complete. I went to see the old place just after the close 
of the World War when some duty in connection with my 
military service took me through Lawrence. It was indeed a 
depressing sight, and I was about to turn away when I hap- 
pened to notice that, in spite of much broken glass, the tran- 
som over the front door remained undamaged. On looking 
more closely, I was amazed to see that it was the original 
glass, inscribed in beautiful but simple lettering by my father’s 
hand. One of my elder brothers had once told of seeing him 
do the work; how he prepared the beeswax and carefully 
spread it on the glass and then, after cutting the letters in the 


AMERICA CREATES SOMETHING NEW 9 


wax, had with acid, somewhere obtained, etched the motto of 


his household: 


“Into whatsoever house ye enter, first say, 
Peace be to this house.” 


’ Needless to say, I made arrangements to secure this cherished 
piece of glass, and to-day it adorns my own home in Madison, 
New Jersey, a worthy blessing for any household, great or 
small. 

Interested explorers in the field of eugenics may speculate 
upon the circumstances of our family origin. To them will be 
left these matters of deduction, although all of us, sons and 
daughters, must give the credit of any successes we may have 
had to our far-seeing and talented father and mother, whose 
lot was cast in a pioneer frontier town and who, in spite of 
the handicap of remote location and straitened finances, 
reared a family of seven, providing us all with good edu- 
cations. 

In the early 80’s the family removed from Lawrence to a 
suburb of Chicago, and my father and mother together took 
up educational and literary work through the medium of a 
little paper called The Weekly Magazine, which they started 
in Chicago.. Now, it was in Chicago that the skyscraper had 
its inception, and it was this family of boys whose lives were 
to be so influenced by the then unimagined skyscraper devel- 
opment. Some of them were destined to take a leading part 
in the inception, and, indeed, some of them were responsible 
for at least a part of the pioneer development of the skyscraper 
of to-day. Prepared by family tradition to be builders, edu- 
cated to be skilful of hand and self-reliant, some of them en- 
dowed at least with talent for drawing, design and organiza- 
tion, and all living in a family atmosphere of creative imagi- 
nation and constructive effort, it was not unnatural that they 
should have turned to construction as their life calling. 


10 SKYSCRAPERS 


The oldest boy, Theodore, was forced by family necessities 
to leave Lake Forest University before he was graduated. A 
talent for drawing and his builder’s inheritance sent him into 
an architect’s office, then into another—that of Burnham & 
Root. The second boy, Paul, went to New Mexico to ward off 
incipient tuberculosis. When he improved, Theodore found 
him a place with Burnham & Root, where he soon rose to a 
position of responsibility, eventually becoming Mr. Burn- 
ham’s representative in a number of his large operations in 
Eastern cities. Later he joined the George A. Fuller Com- 
pany and, as stated elsewhere, eventually became president of 
that concern. Ralph, the third boy, worked for a time in a 
hardware store, then in a bank; then Theodore, graduated — 
from Burnham & Root’s and setting up as a builder, was 
joined by Ralph. Theodore afterward joined the Fuller or- 
ganization in the East. The fourth boy, Goldwin, alone fin- 
ished college, being graduated as a mechanical engineer at 
the University of Michigan and taking his extraordinary tal- 
ent for design and drawing directly into Uncle Dan’s office. 
I, the fifth son, had to leave Michigan at the end of my second 
year, worked for two years in a wholesale grocery house, pre- 
meditatedly for business experience on the advice of Theo- 
dore, and then joined him with the Fuller Company, begin- 
ning as an office boy. In later years, Lake Forest conferred on 
Theodore the degree of Bachelor of Arts, and the University 
of Michigan gave me the degree of Bachelor of Science in 
Civil Engineering. 

My brothers were Mr. Burnham’s protegés, and all of us 
are eternally in his debt for the inspiration he furnished, for 
we all came closely in contact with him in one way and an- 
other. However, it was not alone for this reason that I think 
of Uncle Dan Burnham as the greatest of the pioneer build- 
ers. He had a forceful, if austere, personality, and his vision 
was as practical as it was far-reaching. “Make no little plans,” 


AMERICA CREATES SOMETHING NEW 11 


he counselled in 1907. “They have no magic to stir men’s 
blood and probably themselves will not be realized. Make big 
plans; aim high in hope and work, remembering that a noble, 
logical diagram once recorded will never die, but long after 
we are gone will be a living thing, asserting itself with ever- 
- growing insistency. Remember that our sons and grandsons 
are going to do things that would stagger us. Let your watch- 
word be order and your beacon beauty.” 

The big and noble plans he made for Chicago, Washing- 
ton, San Francisco, and Cleveland in particular and these 
United States in general, true to his prophecy, are living 
things to-day, sixteen years after his death, asserting them- 
selves with ever-growing insistency. My brother Goldwin used 
to carry Uncle Dan’s lantern slides as he went about that raw 
and crude young city, preaching Chicago Beautiful to any 
handful in church or schoolroom or lodge hall that would lis- 
ten to him. Those dreams now are taking form in Wacker 
Drive, the lake front, the parks and boulevards and a dawn- 
ing civic centre. 

In Washington, he, more than any one else, rescued L’En- 
fant’s noble city plan from oblivion and restored it to health. 
He alone persuaded Alexander Cassatt to relinquish the fran- 
chise on the Mall, that essential avenue in L’Enfant’s plan, 
stretching from the Capitol to the Monument, that an indif- 
ferent people had granted to the Pennsylvania Railroad, and 
he designed the new Washington Union Station, the building 
of which I superintended for the Thompson-Starrett Com- 
pany. In San Francisco he built a shanty on Twin Peaks from 
which he studied a city plan for the Mistress of the Golden 
Gate. Cleveland called him, and Manila and Baguio, the sum- 
mer capital of the Philippines. But it was as constructor-in- 
chief of the Chicago World’s Fair that he left his mark in- 
delibly on the nation at large. 


CHAPTER II 
EARLY HISTORY 


We Americans have been builders from earliest colonial 
days, and indeed, that colonial period gave us some of our 
most beautiful and enduring architectural styles. As colonial 
builders, we were aristocrats and our structures of that period 
reflect it. With our independence, it must be admitted that a 
banality set in which is shown in the vast majority of struc- 
tures built during the first seventy-five years of the nineteenth 
century. Yet in the metropolitan structures of that period, we” 
can discern the groping of those hard-headed, practical people 
for the thing we finally attained—the skyscraper. Here and 
there throughout our large cities one may find even now ex- 
amples of those banal old buildings, made with cast-iron 
fronts, too often adorned with clumsy and meaningless orna- 
ment. But the structures had a meaning. They were the grop- 
ings for escape from the thick masonry walls which are neces- 
sary for height unless those walls are relieved of their loads by 
metal columns. The torch of classical design and architectural 
beauty was often made to flicker low by blasts of this crudity; 
but it had its purpose, however obscure, and it is with plea- 
sure that we remember a few great souls who resisted the 
storm, yet gleaned inspiration from its obscure and uncompre- 
hended purpose. 

To my eyes, the most beautiful architectural creation of all 
time was conceived and erected during this period—the Capi- 
tol at Washington; and its crowning glory, the great dome, 
was made possible by the frantic excursions of these cast-iron 
builders—the dome is of cast-iron. 

But what has all of this talk about cast-iron to do with the 

12 


EARLY HISTORY 13 


skyscrapers? The answer is that the columns of the first sky-. 
scraper were of cast-iron; and there is no doubt that the prior 
use of this material in fronts and for miscellaneous structural 
members had shown how these columns should be made. 

Now the modern skyscraper is a great complexity of ma- 
terials and things, and one who would understand it must 
know something of these materials and things and their his- 
tory and origins. And here again, unless we take a starting 
point, we are in a bewilderment that leads nowhere. 

The baseline, to use an engineering term, from which to 
measure the history and development of the skyscraper is the 
Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia in 1876, for, while 
there were no skyscrapers or even structures that remotely re- 
sembled them at that exposition, there were in the construc- 
tion of the buildings and in the exhibitions many of the seeds 
that then and there took root under the quickening impulse 
that the exposition furnished. Construction itself, however, 
was secondary, and these seeds were unrecognized at this 
time, for the skyscraper had not yet arrived. 

In order to view our progress since the year 1876, it may 
be helpful to divide the time into three roughly equal periods, 
for the advancement in the art of modern construction falls 
naturally into those periods, each period having a distinct 
characteristic and each being the logical outcome of its prede- 
cessor in the production of the art and science of building as 
we know it to-day. 

The first period is from the Centennial to the World’s Fair 
in Chicago in 1893. It seems literally that almost everything 
modern in human advancement commenced with that Cen- 
tennial, and certainly modern construction can date its genesis 
from about that time. 

A study of the records of the Centennial shows how un- 
important the structures themselves were considered to be as 
compared with their contents. Mere shelters they were, 


14 SKYSCRAPERS 


adorned with bizarre, jigsaw ornaments. Such structural 
metal as was used is spoken of in the reports as “iron” —per- 
haps much of it was wrought iron. The report of the form of 
construction was in what now seems quaint engineering lan- 
guage, but these structures were no mean undertakings in 
engineering. After giving certain information as to the height 
and size of the buildings, the chief engineer speaks of the 
iron columns—note the word—but the curtain wall had not 
dawned, for the masonry walls went up only seven feet from 
the ground, then windows, and then that super-abomination, 
—galvanised iron cladding on wood. 

The Committee on Grounds, Plans and Buildings took a 
harsh and indeed hopeless view of what should have been one 
of their main concerns, for they say in effect in their report 
that design should be eschewed, utilitarianism emphasized, 
with not one penny for anything but utility. They seemed 
fairly to gasp when beauty was even mentioned. 

The architects seemed wholly to have failed to solve an 
architectural problem and engineers were called in. Did they 
fail, or was it the failure of the Board to comprehend archi- 
tecture? Perhaps the Board, in setting limits so narrow and so 
unimaginative that no architect could in self-respect comply, 
was in part the cause of the expressed despair. 

The whole temper of the Centennial must be realized as an 
almost frenzied appeal to a triumphant and material north- 
ern manufacturing population to have humanity view the 
era of unbounded prosperity and progress that the dawn of 
the events they visioned would usher in. There is a humorous 
irony in the report of the Director General who, in his scant 
reference to the buildings, remarks that “the state exhibits 
were housed in ugly and inappropriate structures’’—a sort of 
vicious kick at a particularly ugly orphan child of a family 
that had given little else than trouble in the scheme of things 
as the management saw it. 


Sixteen years later the World’s Fair Management prepared its Machinery Hall with a skeleton steel 
frame, a form of construction almost wholly unknown in the earlier Exposition. 


16 SKYSCRAPERS 


So it was that to the engineer fell the lot of arranging and 
designing the architecture. The unlovely results spoke for 
themselves, although from the layout of the grounds one must 
almost suspect that somehow an architect had broken through, 
and, perhaps in disguise, laid a mantle of good arrangement 
over the grounds and the placing of the buildings. 

It was in 1876 that Charles F. McKim, William R. Mead, 
and Stanford White made their celebrated pilgrimage to New 
England, to Marblehead, Salem, Newburyport and Ports- 
mouth, seeking out and making drawings of the best colonial 
work. Out of that excursion came the classical renaissance in 
America, but much too late to influence the Centennial. 

To me, the most impressive gauge of our fifty years of prog- 
ress is the fact that, in that exposition of 1876, electricity 
played practically no part. It is true that the telegraph was 
used as a means of communication, for the reports tell us of 
the great convenience it was in communicating with Philadel- 
phia. No less than forty-nine wires were in use in the grounds, 
and the records are constantly referring to the great saving of 
time effected thereby. But there were no electric lights or even 
hints of the possibility of such means of lighting. The piping 
of the grounds for gas was among the major problems, and 
the management points with pride to the sufficiency of its 
street and building illumination by the ample equipment of 
gas lamp-posts. General night illumination and night dis- 
play, however, had no place in the plans of the Centennial 
Exposition. j 

We, of course, know that one of the curiosities of the Cen- 
tennial was the telephone, by means of which the voice could 
be transmitted several miles; but, like the electric lamp, it was 
a curiosity, a thing in the realm of speculative scientific ap- 
paratus with as yet no practical application. Machinery was the 
thing, and Machinery Hall was one of the principal buildings. 
The question of power was one of the baffling problems, and 


The beautiful Court of Honor, Chicago World’s Fair, where superb artistic effect 
took precedence over the banal utilitarianism of the Centennial. 


In 1876 this was the last word in a freight-handling terminal, as extolled by the man- 
agement of the Centennial, which this terminal was built to serve. 


18 SKYSCRAPERS 


much is said about the munificent donation by Mr. Corliss of 
the large engine which stood in the centre of Machinery Hall. 
Elaborate systems of shafting, both in tunnels and by over- 
head devices, served to transmit that power to all parts of the 
building. This mighty Corliss engine is described as a double 
cylinder compound of no less than fourteen hundred horse-_ 
power, supplied with steam from the adjacent Corliss boiler 
house. The World’s Fair at Chicago, sixteen years later, re- 
quired, in all, over one hundred thousand horse-power, and 
electric transmission had largely superseded the shafting and 
belts of the Centennial. Such primitive and experimental dy- 
namos as may have been driven from the shafting were, like 
the telephone, mere scientific playthings. 

Portland cement, while known and in some general use in 
concrete and for mortar for brick work below grade, was im- 
ported from England, but was hardly used in the masonry 
walls of the superstructure. It is recorded that specimens of 
reinforced concrete were exhibited at the Centennial as a sort 
of curiosity in the field of speculative possibilities, but as yet 
unrecognized for any general use, although a few obscure but 
daring leaders had commenced to catch the vision. Reinforced 
concrete, as the reader must know, is concrete in which steel 
bars or heavy steel mesh is embedded. This steel is first put in 
position, the concrete poured around and over it and securely 
tamped in place so as to embed the steel completely. When 
the concrete hardens or “‘sets,”” we have a material of tremen- 
dous strength, the great compression strength of the concrete 
supplemented by the great tensile strength of the steel. 

But we were at that time well into the era of bridge build- 
ing, and rolling mills were even then establishing their stan- 
dard shapes which afterward were to become the foundation 
of our skeleton steel-design for skyscrapers. Already some long 
and beautiful steel bridges had been built and the science of 
civil engineering, as we know it to-day, was fast establishing 


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20 SKYSCRAPERS 


its basic data. Railroad rails were being produced in large 
quantities by the already flourishing steel mills, and even 
these rails were being seized upon by bridge and structural de- 
signers for use in foundations and for lintels over wide open- 
ings. 

Such was the baseline and the background. 

Almost unlimited space could be taken in reviewing those 
Centennial structures and pointing out their quaint and now 
obsolete characteristics, but it is with the iron framework that — 
we are concerned here. The materials were wrought and cast- 
iron, probably the greatest structural use of iron ever made in 
one building construction enterprise until then. Except for 
domes and towers carrying no live loads, none of the build- 
ings exceeded three floors in height; nevertheless, the seeds of 
the skyscraper were there. To trace its dim beginnings, how- 
ever, it is necessary to drop back to the year 1853. 

In that year the building of Harper & Brothers, pioneer 
publishers of New York, burned with a loss of $1,500,000, 
said to have been the greatest fire loss ever suffered by one 
American firm up to that time. The Harpers naturally sought 
to avoid another such disaster and, in 1854, erected in Frank- 
lin Square the first so-called fire-proof building of any magni- 
tude in the country. No building is utterly fire-proof, of 
course, and this was not even so by modern standards, but it 
was fire-resistant to a point beyond anything that preceded it. 

Wrought-iron floor beams were the novelty of the Har- 
per Building. Cast-iron beams had been used occasionally in 
Europe in efforts at fire-proof factory construction. I cannot 
fix the first appearance of the much lighter, tougher wrought- 
iron beams, but they were rolled in America for the first time 
in 1854 at the Trenton, New Jersey, ironworks of which 
Peter Cooper, the philanthropist, was the principal owner. 
The first beams were intended for the Cooper Union, on 
which work had started in 1852. The Trenton works turned 


EARLY HISTORY Q1 


out the first beams only after two years of costly and trouble— 
some experimentation, and then Cooper waived the first lot to 
the Harpers, and the new building of the publishers became 
the first to employ wrought-iron beams set in masonry walls 
as lateral supports. It was only six stories and contained no 
single principle of the skyscraper, yet those wrought-iron 
beams were the first faint foreshadowings of the Woolworth 
Tower. | 

As land values and taxes rise, owners must get an increased 
return from their properties. This may be done either by in- 
creasing rentals or by adding to the rental space of the build- 
ings, or both. Rentals cannot be increased beyond a competi- 
tive point; higher than that, renters are driven elsewhere. 
Rental space can be increased only by adding stories, and 
there the property owner was stopped by the limitations of 
the human leg muscles. 

Before the invention of the elevator, six stories was the 
practicable limit of commercial building. At any time in the 
past two thousand years, builders could have erected masonry 
structures higher than that, but even the sturdy calves of our 
unpampered forefathers balked at climbing more than six 
stories, and the rental value of floors above the third fell off 
in more than an arithmetical ratio. 

In 1859, the new Fifth Avenue Hotel, six stories high, was 
opened. It was the last word in modernity and magnificence, 
the brightest jewel of its diadem the first passenger elevator 
ever built, called by Otis Tufts, of Boston, the builder, a “‘verti- 
cal screw railway.” The cab was set on a screw shaft, propelled 
upward by a steam engine revolving the shaft, and checked 
hydraulically on its descent. Thus it moved as a great nut 
would move on a bolt held on bearings, the nut travelling 
along the bolt as it revolved. Early in 1860, Tufts installed 
another in the Continental Hotel, the pride of Philadelphia. 
Each cost $25,000 to build, was cumbrous and exasperatingly 


99 SKYSCRAPERS 


slow, and no more were built; but the elevator age had 
dawned. In 1866, the first suspended elevator, a steam hoist, 
was installed in the St. James Hotel, in New York, and two 
years later, the original Equitable Life Assurance Society 
building on lower Broadway was erected, the first office build- 
ing in the world to contain a passenger elevator. 

Now buildings could be and immediately were carried to 
ten stories. Elevator accidents were frequent, but the timorous 
could walk if they liked. The higher the building, however, 
the heavier became the lower walls, until the upward thrust 
of the sky-line encountered another stop clause. Masonry 
structures of ten stories and more demanded lower walls of 
such fortresslike thickness and sparse window vents that the 
ground floor space, most valuable of all, was devoured and the 
sunlight all but excluded. 

In their efforts to lighten these walls without weakening 
them, architects began to build cast-iron into the brick and 
masonry. Cast-iron is as brittle as a stove lid, but it has enor- 
mous compression strength. The outcome was the heavily or- 
namented hollow cast-iron front, molded to counterfeit ma- 
sonry, so common between 1860 and 1880, and of which 
many specimens survive. It was an excrescence, but another 
step in the direction of the skyscraper. The Harper Building, 
torn down in 1925 when the publishers moved up-town, was 
a notable example. A later fine example was the A. T. Stew- 
art—later the John Wanamaker—store. 

Another partial answer to the problem was to reduce the 
dead load to be carried by the walls. A minor step in this di- 
rection was the substitution of hollow cast-iron columns, light 
and compact, for masonry in interior walls. Most of the dead 
weight, however, was in the floors. Brick arches, the floor con- 
struction practice of the day, were fearfully heavy. Moreover, 
the lower flanges of the iron beams were exposed to the direct 
attack of fire. Stecl begins to lose its strength at six hundred 


The first steel skeleton skyscraper. The Home In- The Westminster Hotel in Boston, which was the 
surance Building, Chicago, designed by William Le- subject of legislation that established the right of the 
‘Baron Jenney. Originally ten stories high, the two city of Boston to make arbitrary height limitations. 
top stories were added later. The city ordered the top story removed, which ac- 

counts for the roof line. (See text p. 102.) 


WANAMAKER’S STORE IN NEW YORK 


: The exterior walls are cast-iron shells filled with masonry, thoroughly fireproof according to 
the best traditions of the early 70’s. 


Q4 SKYSCRAPERS 


degrees, wrought-iron at about eight hundred degrees, and 
much higher temperatures are inevitable in a serious fire. 

Balthaser Kreischer, a New York manufacturer of fire 
brick, found the solution both of dead weight and of fire pro- 
tection in the hollow tile, which he patented in 1871. The 
flat-arch, hollow-tile floor laid between the iron floor beams 
weighed only one-fourth as much as the brick arch. More- 
over, by this method of construction, he insulated the ex- 
posed iron beams with a highly fire-resistant surface and 
chambers of air, for in his patents the “skew-backs,” or tiles 
that rest directly against the beams, were so designed that 
flanges of tile reached down and encased the lower flanges 
of the beams. 

Buildings went a little higher again, but now they began to 
encounter difficulties below ground. As far back as we know 
anything of building, foundations had been one continuous 
bed of masonry in solid ground, or wooden piles in wet, un- 
stable soils. Foundations now are a science; in 1880 they 
were a practice that had not advanced appreciably in thou- 
sands of years. 3 

Here the scene shifts to Chicago, where the foundation 
problem was particularly acute. The city lies a few feet above 
Lake Michigan on a bed of muck. The ground water level is 
only ten to fifteen feet below the surface and any attempt at 
excavation resulted in an immediate battle with water and 
caving soil. The great fire of 1871 had destroyed the business 
district utterly, and as the city rebuilt, it did so on a greater, 
more modern scale. As great weights were imposed on old- 
style, continuous foundations resting in this soggy soil, there 
was trouble. The Federal Building, completed in 1880 at a 
cost of $5,000,000, settled so badly that it was condemned 
and razed after eighteen years. Frederick Baumann, a local 
architect, seems first to have suggested an independent foun- 
dation for each column, making for more uniform settling. 


EARLY HISTORY 95 


The pioneer example of this foundation practice was the 
ten-story Montauk Building, designed by Burnham & Root 
and erected in 1881. Each pier of this masonry structure, 
exterior and interior, rested on its own foundation of stepped 
stones based on layers of concrete eighteen inches thick, the 
whole designed on a trial-and-error formula of so much foun- 
dation spread to so much weight imposed on the pier. The 
column loads were not so great in those days; perhaps two 
hundred tons on a single footing was unheard of. On this ac- 
count the “spreading” for a footing need not have been over 
large, even though those early engineers knew less than we. 
know now. The masonry pyramids so nearly filled the base- 
ment of the Montauk Building that the boilers and engine 
room had to be located at grade in a court behind the elevator 
shaft, and the Montauk, like all Chicago office buildings until 
a later date, really had no basement. 

In this early period, Burnham & Root designed the sixteen- 
story Monadnock Building, the highest that burden-bearing 
masonry walls ever were carried, I believe. At the basement 
level the walls are nearly fifteen feet thick. 

Spread footings were not new. The foundations of the great 
cathedrals of the Renaissance were designed by the great en- 
gineers of that day, and many of them were amazing accom- 
plishments. But they were based on meagre knowledge and 
even more meagre facilities. Those early Chicago engineers 
were just emerging from the foundation traditions of the 
Renaissance and their work naturally followed the early prece- 
dents. Finally, within the limited requirements of all prob- 
lems then to be met, that Renaissance engineering was gen- 
erally correct. 

It was the ushering in of the tremendous, concentrated 
loads that gave impetus to our modern science of foundations 
and brought about the concrete pile, the steel tube and the 
pneumatic caisson, not to mention the now almost indispensa- 


26 SKYSCRAPERS 


ble steel sheet piling. These are the devices of to-day, the com- 
plete answer to the requirements that tremendous column 
loads impose. Deep foundations are only deep because they 
must first conquer soft, soggy soils and carry their loads to 
bed rock or hard-pan. 

Yet we must not get sentimental about the ancients and 
their engineering, however much we admire the great archi- 
tecture they served. The Leaning Tower of Pisa was originally 
an engineering error. Unstably built, it settled when about 
two-thirds completed, and for a while was abandoned, await- 
ing its final collapse. It came to equilibrium through no en- 
gineering skill, but because of the uncalculated compression of 
the soil. After long standing uncompleted, an ingenious theory 
of its form took the public imagination, and it was finally fin- 
ished as we see it. Dozens of other examples could be cited. 
The Campanile of Venice toppled and fell within our memory, 
due to faulty foundations. St. Paul’s in London has continued 
to settle ever since it was finished over one hundred years ago, 
its condition in the past decade having become so alarming as 
to cause the great edifice to be closed for a period recently until 
the dome could be braced and strapped together. Similarly, 
the foundations of Westminster Abbey have to receive constant 
attention. It is only through knowledge of modern engineering 
that we are able to correct the shortcomings of those old en- 
gineers. Who shall say how many of the fabled great works of 
old succumbed to their faulty foundations? Certainly, the oft- 
expressed theory that the Colossus of Rhodes fell by reason of ° 
unstable foundations is the most plausible explanation of the 
disappearance of that great world wonder. 


GEAR TERS 
THE FIRST SKYSCRAPER 


BEFORE some architect could attempt to carry masonry 
walls even higher, the skyscraper appeared. In the fall of 
1883, W. L. B. Jenney was commissioned by the Home In- 
surance Company of New York to design a Chicago office 
building for them. Others had built cast-iron into their ma- 
sonry walls and piers and used wrought-iron floor beams, but 
Jenney went a long and daring step farther. He actually car- 
ried out what no one ever had done in theory or practice be- 
fore—took the dead load off his walls and placed it on a skele- 
ton framework of iron concealed inside the masonry—cast- 
iron columns and wrought-iron I beams, bolting the beams to 
the columns with angle-iron brackets. 

When the framework had reached the sixth floor, a letter 
came to Mr. Jenney from the Carnegie-Phipps Steel Com- 
pany of Pittsburgh. It stated that they now were rolling Besse- 
mer steel beams and asked permission to substitute these for 
wrought-iron beams on the remaining floors. Jenney agreed, 
and the resultant shipment was the first ever made of struc- 
tural steel, in the modern sense. The columns continued to be 
cast-iron, however, since plates and angles of steel, of which 
the later steel columns were built up, had not yet been rolled. 

This Home Insurance Building, the first of all skyscrapers, 
still stands at La Salle and Adams Streets; originally ten sto- 
ries, two more floors were added later. It was started May 1, 
1884, and finished in the fall of 1885. 

It is true, however, that L. S. Buffington, a young architect 

27 


Q8 ~ SKYSCRAPERS 


of Minneapolis, had dreamed of skeleton steel structures as 
early as 1880. His inspiration was gained from the specula- 
tions of a French architect, LeDuc, who had years before, in 
a discourse on architecture, written: “A practical architect 
might not unnaturally conceive the idea of erecting a vast 
edifice whose frame should be entirely of iron, enclosing 
that frame and preserving it by means of a casing of stone.” 
Pursuant to the inspiration that this reading gave him, Mr. 
Buffington set about conceiving multi-storied structures. He 
dreamed of buildings twenty, thirty, fifty, and even a hun- ve 
dred stories high, and made fantastic sketches. These dream 
buildings he christened, “‘cloud-scrapers.” He even went so 
far as to make the engineering calculations as to how heavy 
the columns might have to be in these buildings of various 
heights. But for one reason or another, he delayed making any 
application for patents until about 1887 or 1888. We know, 
of course, that already the Home Insurance Building had been 
completed two or three years before. Moreover, it is question- 
able whether Mr. Buffington could have secured backing to 
erect any of his dream structures, and whether any of the 
designs he had made were capable of practical construction. 
The fact is, regardless of his claim to prior invention, it was 
Mr. Jenney who put the problem to practical test, and to him 
belongs the credit, in spite of the commendable excursion of 
Mr. Buffington into the field of fancy. It is of interest to re- 
cord that, for several years after skyscrapers commenced to 
appear in Chicago, Mr. Bufhngton threatened suit against the 
owners for infringement of his patents, and it is my recollec- 
tion that, in one or two cases, he actually started proceedings, 
but the prior application of the principle by Mr. Jenney largely 
defeated his case. 

The next great step forward came a year later from the of- 
fice of Burnham & Root. Their twelve-story Rookery Build- 
ing copied the Jenney skeleton framework, but the founda- 


THE FIRST SKYSCRAPER Q9 


tions pioneered the present steel-grillage design. Instead of 
setting the Rookery on a series of bulky stone-and-cement 
pyramids, Burnham & Root designed footings of two courses 
of railroad steel laid at right angles to each other and em- 
bedded in concrete, with steel I beams crossing the upper 
courses. John M. Ewen was, at that time, chief engineer for 
Burnham & Root, and my eldest brother, Theodore, was then 
a draftsman in the office. It was he, I believe, who first sug- 
gested this use of railroad rails. 

Laymen may find this explanation obscure; but if the read- 
er does not understand how it was done, he will understand 
the effect. What was accomplished was a better burden-bear- 
ing foundation, occupying only a fraction of the space of the 
pyramidal footings and requiring an excavation of as little as 
three feet. 

Though an advance on the isolated masonry pier, this still 
was a complacent acceptance of a floating foundation. When 
I was a youngster in Chicago, it was not uncommon for large 
buildings to be as much as three or four inches out of plumb, 
a condition frequently noticeable in the chatter of the eleva- 
tors. It was a general practice then to allow for as much as a 
foot of settling, and sidewalks were canted upward from the 
curb line at as much of an angle as the builder dared, in the 
hope that, when the building did settle, the sidewalks would 
sink with it to their true plane. The extent of the settling, un- 
fortunately, had to be guessed at. 

The real answer to the problem, of course, was to carry the 
piers to hard-pan or bed-rock at seventy-five or one hundred 
feet and seal out the water to provide a basement; but en- 
gineers did not yet know how to combat water and caving 
soils, except awkwardly, at prohibitive expense. In recent years 
just such foundations have been carried through the muck and 
sand and the underlying blue clay to rock or hard-pan under 
some of those old buildings—even such a massive structure 


30 SKYSCRAPERS 


as the Masonic Temple—while business went on as usual 
above. The method is to take the columns one by one, catch 
them up on girders that span to cribbings placed adjacent, 
thus forming a temporary straddle between cribs, with the 
column base dangling over the hole of a now open caisson. 
These caissons finished to hard-pan are filled with concrete 
and the dangling base securely embedded. The cribbing is 
then removed, and the old column rests securely on a new 
foundation. 

And as engineers learned in the early go’s how to tame the 
ground water, they went back and dug basements under some 
of these pioneer buildings. A sheath piling first was run down 
to hold back the sand and water, then the excavation was 
sealed with a lining of concrete, pitch and five plies of tar 
paper. A sump was left as an outlet for the ground water con- 
stantly thrusting upward and threatening to flood the base- 
ment. Pumps keep going year in and out to draw off this 
water. It is the refinement of this method which now is used 
in almost all deep basements where water and shifting soils 
are met. 

Though we no longer would build a twelve-story structure 
on grillages floating on soggy earth and shifting sand, we 
continue to use this same grillage of steel and concrete as a 
footing for every pier hole, deep or shallow. What is the 
necessity in bed-rock, you may ask. Can any mortal-made 
weight crush the rocky shell of Mother Earth? To an extent, 
yes. A weight of 1,000 tons resting directly on rock will tend 
to powder the surface of that rock, however hard; and inas- 
much as a variation of a fraction of an inch is to be avoided 
in foundations, we have to distribute that enormous burden 
on a spread of steel grillage laid on top of the rock. More- 
over, as a practical matter, it is important to have a reason- 
able spread to a footing on which a column stands to facilitate 
steel erection, for the bases and grillage are carefully and ac- 


“paytyy ‘oseoryD ‘Surpiing 


‘WIeY[aY ‘MA es10a5) “eIUIOF[eD ‘oostouvily ueg ‘SsuIp[INng ssny oyT, Siop[ng “IOAII oY} Ssuoje (MOTEq IUJeI} [eIIOWIUIOD) pIeAsfNog ® 
"YIOA MON UI JoaI}s B IYI] YONU AIIA SHOOT OOSIOUPIY URS UT JooI}s VY SUIIOJ} IALICG JOYVM ‘OSLITYD) Ul Jolfad IFeI} IOJ sjooI}s Yep sjqnoqg 
"OD UOLjINASUOD arppimutq fo Ksazino7y 02 W0S Q synfiuy uyor fo ksaqinoy 


aD 
buco iwnia 


32 SKYSCRAPERS 


curately set level, and the column is bolted to the base before 
the derrick lets go of it; otherwise it would topple and fall. 

The passer-by who stops from a fascination he cannot ex- 
plain to watch a steam shovel snorting in a hole, imagines 
that the deeper the hole, the higher the building is to be. 
This does not follow. We can scrape away two or three feet 
of earth and run up a fifty-story building or more, if beneath 
that few feet of earth is bed-rock. If we quarry deeply into 
the solid rock with air drills and explosives, it is to provide 
basement and sub-basement space démanded by operating, 
not engineering, necessities. Contrarily, in swampy ground, 
we may have to dig one hundred feet to bed-rock to support 
a ten-story building, and this necessitates pneumatic caissons 
or some other complex form of foundation construction. 

Now, in 1887, one year further along, Holabird & Roche, 
architects, in collaboration with Purdy & Henderson, bridge 
engineers, both of which firms still are active, combined and 
improved upon the achievements of Jenney and of Burnham 
& Root and designed the fourteen-story Tacoma Building. The 
outer walls on the two street frontages were purely curtains of 
brick and terra cotta, carried at each floor by steel spandrel 
beams attached to cast-iron columns; and here first was seen 
the startling spectacle of bricklayers beginning to lay walls 
midway between roof and ground. The Tacoma was the first 
structure ever built in which any outer wall carried no bur- 
den and served no purpose other than ornamentation and the 
keeping out of wind and weather, which became one of the 
fundamentals of skyscraper design. The two other walls were 
masonry and self-supporting. The foundations were the iso- 
lated footings with steel members devised by Burnham & 
Root. - 

George A. Fuller appears on the scene here as the builder 
of the Tacoma. He came to Chicago a few years earlier from 
Worcester, Massachusetts. He was a new type of contractor, 


THE FIRST SKYSCRAPER 33 


pioneering an administrative revolution in construction. Con- 
tractors until now usually had been boss carpenters or masons, 
men of a little capital and foremanship, but generally of no 
technical education, who executed sub-contracts under the 
supervision of the architects. This was feasible in small enter- 
prises, but as buildings grew in magnitude architects were 
overwhelmed with a multiplicity of burdens for which many 
of them had little training and no aptitude. Fuller raised con- 
tracting from a limited trade to both an industry and a pro- 
fession, visualizing the building problem in its entirety—pro- 
motion, finance, engineering, labor and materials; and the 
architect reverted to his original function of design. 

- Fuller first was a salesman who sought out property owners 
and promoted new buildings; secondly, an expert who under- 
stood the income possibilities and necessities of office build- 
ings; then a financier who arranged the needful capital and 
credits; next an engineer competent to oversee every phase of 
modern building; and lastly, a business executive, buying and 
assembling materials to the best advantage and commanding 
a staff of assistants and an army of sub-contractors and labor- 
ers. That is the building business as it exists to-day. 

Fuller was an engineer, but a builder need not of neces- 
sity be an engineer, and it is measurably true that great en- 
gineers are not likely to be good builders; the jobs are too un- 
like. A sound engineering knowledge is of great value to a 
builder if he first has the other needful qualities, more par- 
ticularly because an engineer, in his education, learns to ob- 
serve how things are put together. But the involved calcula- 
tions necessary to great structures are worked out in advance 
for the builder by a professional structural engineer. If there 
were such a thing as a technically educated business manager, 
he would be the ideal builder, for we are administrators and 
executives, not specialist technicians. George A. Fuller died 
in his forty-ninth year, in 1900. He was the victim of his own 


34 SKYSCRAPERS 


tremendous driving power and the demands that the build- 
ing business often imposes. 

There were other pioneers, of course, some very great names 
in this skyscraper field, but I did not come into such close con- 
tact with them. John Griffiths of Chicago was another like 
Fuller, but he never extended his sphere of influence to other 
cities as Fuller did. In the East, Marc Eidlitz established a 
name for ability and integrity as a builder, to-day made even 
more illustrious by his sons, who carry on with increased 
vigor the original organization of their father. Norcross in 
New England laid the foundations for some of the finest tra- 
ditions of the modern building industry. And in New York, 
Charles T. Wills and John I. Downey left their everlasting 
impress on the building profession by the fine structures they 
erected. In Philadelphia, John T. Windrim, a pioneer archi- 
tect of the era of the Centennial and after, gave inspiration to 
the sudden skyscraper development of that city and left a 
heritage of some of the best structures in Philadelphia. It was 
he who designed and supervised the construction of the Penn- 
sylvania Railroad office building, a splendid achievement in 
engineering and construction. His son carries on as one of the 
country’s leading architects, and the skyscrapers to his credit 
in Philadelphia are many. | 

In 1889, the skyscraper evolved into a form the fundamen- ° 
tals of which have come down unchanged in high-building 
practice. In that year Burnham & Root designed and built the 
Rand-McNally Building, the first skeleton structure of rolled- 
steel beams and columns built up of standard bridge-steel 
shapes and riveted together. Jenney’s Leiter Building, a few 
months later, was the first without a single self-supporting 
wall, as his Fair Building in 1891 was the first to employ Z 
bar columns. Then, in 1890, Burnham & Root designed the. 
Masonic Temple, twenty-one stories of steel on floating, 
spread foundations, the highest building in the world, and 


THE FIRST SKYSCRAPER 35 


one of the seven wonders thereof for the next few years. 

Thus the skyscraper was a quick evolution of some six or 
seven years, achieved in Chicago and fathered by no one or 
two men. As Corydon T. Purdy, who himself had an im- 
portant role in its genesis, wrote in 1895: 


\ 

This reversal of building methods, this change about in the function 
and use of masonry walls, and the introduction of such new conditions 
in large buildings, is a real revolution the extent of which hardly can 
be realized. The result is that the constructive side of the problem has 
reached its most perfect development in Chicago practice. The rapidity 
and history of its development can be very readily traced in that city. A 
new idea is tried to a limited extent in one building; a bolder applica- 
tion is attempted in the next; another idea, originating in another of- 
fice, is worked out the same way. Thus the evolution proceeds and 
honors are extremely hard to divide. 


As compared with its masonry predecessor, the skyscraper 
was light, airy, sanitary, quieter. Its soar and sweep stirred the 
imagination; there was prestige in being officed in such a 
monument. Its structure permitted the shifting of partitions 
and the subdivision of floors to suit the needs of tenants—im- 
possible in masonry buildings—and its height doubled and 
tripled the income from a given parcel of ground. 

A “skyscraper,” said Maitland’s American Slang Diction- 
ary in 1891, the earliest known definition, is “a very tall 
building such as now are being built in Chicago.” Literally, a 
skyscraper is any tall building, but to a builder it implies a 
steel skeleton incased in a wall that is merely a drapery. There 
are high masonry buildings and there are some three hundred 
and fifty reinforced concrete structures of ten stories or more 
in the United States, the highest a twenty-one story office 
building in Dayton, Ohio; but though reinforced concrete is 
as modern a building material as steel, and a sharp contender 
with it in virtually the whole field of construction, we do not 
think of a concrete structure when we say skyscraper. 

The basis of concrete is Portland cement, which was not 


36 SKYSCRAPERS 


made in commercial quantities in this country until the 80’s. 
Portland cement, of course, has its important uses in struc- 
tural steel building, principally as a successor to lime mortar 
as a masonry binder. Reinforced concrete is unique in that its — 
technology was developed by its own scientists and advocates, 
and by them applied. Oddly, that development coincided al- 
most exactly with that of structural steel; but where the latter 
is wholly American, Europe may claim at least half a share 
in the former. On the other side of the Atlantic, the larger 
modern buildings usually are of reinforced concrete. Its ori- 
gins are obscure, but we know that the Ward mansion in New 
York was built in 1875 of reinforced concrete slabs and col- 
umns and that such were exhibited as curiosities at the Cen- 
tennial. 

Purdy brings us up to the battle between cast-iron, wrought- 
iron and steel, which was fought to a conclusion on the field 
of the skyscraper. The metallurgical difference between these 
three forms of iron is chiefly a matter of carbon content. Cast- 
iron is highest in carbon content. It will support enormous . 
vertical weights, but being highly brittle, cannot be subjected 
to cross strains. Thus the columns of the early skeleton build- 
ings were of cast-iron, while the beams were wrought-iron. 

What we call steel is really wrought-iron made by a supe- 
rior process. Bessemer’s discovery was simply that, by blowing 
air through molten pig iron, he could make a low-carbon 
product largely free from the weakening slag common in 
ordinary wrought-iron. Steel was a very hard, high-carbon 
product associated in the public mind with superiority—the 
material of fine swords, razor blades and edged tools; so the 
manufacturers appropriated the name “‘steel’’ for a wholly 
new iron intermediate between wrought and cast, lacking the 
essential hardness of true steel, free from the slag of wrought- 
iron, yet having the latter’s malleability. | 

Bessemer invented his converter in 1855, but it did not ap- 


Courtesy of Starrett Brothers, Inc. 


Courtesy of Turner Construction Co. 


- Where concrete competes with steel. Concrete frame 

of the Davison-Paxon Store, Atlanta, Ga.; fore- 

ground, the Capital Theatre. The concrete girders 

and floor slabs of the store attach to “‘ party columns” 
of steel. 


Concrete through and through. Not only is the frame 
of this building concrete, but the walls and architec- 
tural design are carried out in the same material. 


is oe roe ee ¥ ” 
4 "ag * 


Courtesy of Starrett Brothers, Inc. 


A concrete frame that will be completery submerged by its exterior masonry. Construction of the Atlanta- 
Biltmore Hotel, Atlanta, Ga. Schultze & Weaver, Architects. 


38 SKYSCRAPERS 


pear in the United States until the 80’s. The textbooks will 
inform you that steel first was used structurally in this coun- 
try—likewise pneumatic foundation caissons—in 1874 in the 
Eads Bridge over the Mississippi at St. Louis; but this was 
hard, crucible steel, long known and prohibitively expensive 
for ordinary construction. About 1880, the new Bessemer steel 
began to be recognized by American engineers as superior to 
wrought-iron in bridge work, and here the ‘bridge engineers 
took a hand in the skyscraper. They alone knew anything of 
the structural limitations of this new iron; by the time of the 
Home Insurance Building, they had worked out a formula of 
steel stresses. 

To-day we know exactly what a given weight and shape of 
steel will do; we know it by testing it metallurgically and by 
ingenious devices, and we assume no calculation to be true 
until it has been so tested physically. The Olsen compression 
pump at the Bureau of Standards, for instance, exerts a pres- 
sure of 5,000 tons slowly and irresistibly. Other machines 
have a tremendous compressive strength. Others are so power- 
ful as to pull great rods and bars asunder; and while the force 
is being applied, measure the diminution of cross-section as 
the intensity gradually elongates the tested member before it 
breaks. An impact machine delivers a succession of terrific 
blows, and with it “break-down” and exhaustion tests are 
made. Electric recording devices in each case chart the resis- 
tance of the column or girder under test. 

The chemical composition of steel is regulated to as fine an 
accuracy as a prescription in a drug store, for, as the material 
is being processed, samples are taken from practically every 
step from pig iron to the finished cold product, and chemists 
in the steel mill laboratories can identify practically any piece 
of steel from billet to finished product and tell with great ac- 
curacy just what the physical properties may be. 

Such laboratory verification of mathematical assumptions 


Courtesy of Starrett Brothers, Inc. Cass Gilbert, Architect. Courtesy of Dinwiddie Construction Co. 


A mighty operation in full swing. View of the New California can boast as fine buildings as any in the 
York Life Insurance Co. Building, New York, with world. Central Savings Bank, Oakland, Calif. 
the stone work well started but many stories of steel 

still to be set. 


i 


M Hi 


pacers aie 


£545 
y “4 - a 


id 


Courtesy of Thompson-Starrett Co. 

The development of the automobile has done something for the building industry. General 

Motors Building, Detroit, Mich., which houses a large part of the executive and administra- 
tive offices. Albert Kahn, Architect. 


40 SKYSCRAPERS 


is a development of the last thirty years. All the bridge en- 
gineers could say in the 80’s for their stress formule was that 
they were theoretically correct—and point to the fact that the 
bridges stood. | 

It is nearly impossible to appreciate to-day what a daring 
thing these men did forty years ago when they ran up build- 
ings to fourteen stories on iron-and-steel ‘skeletons resting on 
experimental foundations, on empirical calculations that the 
buildings ought to stand. When they did stand and others 
even higher and heavier, skeptics were not silenced. What, 
they asked, was happening to the steel meanwhile? What would 
moisture and this strange new thing, electrolysis, do to it in 
time’? It was an admitted fact that steel was less resistant to 
rust than either cast or wrought-iron. What about wind 
strains? Who could say what atomic changes might not occur 
in this metal under continuous subjection to such lateral and 
vertical stresses? Loads of sixteen thousand pounds to the 
square inch were being piled on these columns, where two hun- 
dred pounds was the maximum for an equivalent pier of good 
brick laid in cement mortar. 

Disaster was predicted for years and by men of technical 
knowledge. We know now that their fears were baseless, hav- 
ing torn down steel buildings after thirty years and found 
their beams and columns outwardly and inwardly unchanged; 
but none could prove it then. 

The casting and rolling of iron was a great industry in 
America. “Iron-master’’ once was a synonym for power and 


wealth. In Pittsburgh the iron makers turned generally to 


steel, but elsewhere many of them stuck to the older product 
and did not submit tamely to the competition of the new. One 
of the advantages of wrought and cast irons was that they 
were cheaper and more quickly produced. Bessemer steel was 
a luxury product originally, and as increased manufacturing 


eficiency brought down the price, wrought and cast irons 


ee ee ee a Se ae oe 


THE FIRST SKYSCRAPER Al 


kept pace. Wrought-iron rails that sold at $115 a ton in 1837, 
for example, were quoted at $49.25 in 1880, and $18.25 in 
1908. 

The big iron founders continued to bid vigorously for busi- 
ness. As late as Ig01 we used cast-iron columns in both the 
Ansonia and the Marie Antoinette hotels in New York, eigh- 
teen and twelve stories, respectively, and both splendidly 
built. The principal disadvantages of cast-iron columns were 
that they were not continuous and that beams had to be bolted 
to them. No bolt has the strength of a rivet which, forced 
red-hot into the punch hole, fills up every interstice and 
practically becomes an integral part of beam and column. The 
final disappearance of cast-iron columns in large buildings 
followed the collapse of a thirteen-story apartment house dur- 
ing construction in New York in 1904. The cast-iron proba- 
bly was not at fault, but the suspicion was ruinous. In 1877, 
iron ships universally were of wrought-iron; by 1902, all 
were being made of steel. A similar revolution took place in 
building and bridges in the same period. 

The open-hearth process, now almost universal, brought 
the final victory to steel. In the pioneer days of steel construc- 
tion, sixteen thousand pounds to the square inch was adopted 
generally as the basic unit of working stress. The better quali- 
ty steel of the open-hearth process permitted an upward re- 
vision of this figure to eighteen thousand pounds. This stand- 
ard now is in use in nearly all the American cities. 

As a measure of the bridge builder’s initial contribution to 
the skyscraper, builders to this day buy all their steel from 
bridge shops. Steel mills roll only standard and uniform 
shapes, while the structural steel drawings for a great build- 
ing call for columns and girders of hundreds of different 
lengths and strengths. The bridge shops fabricate these beams 
and columns from standard shapes to the specifications of the 
drawings, punching the rivet holes, riveting on the lugs and 


42 SKYSCRAPERS 


combining shapes into girders and columns. The familiar H 
column of skyscraper construction 1s, for instance, built up of 
various standard shapes riveted together to dimensions: speci- 
fied for the task that particular column is to perform. The 
mechanics of fabrication have hardly changed in nearly forty 
years, except that a much larger variety of shapes is rolled 
nowadays by the mills, and that the steel is of better quality at 
a lower price. 

All the while the elevator manufacturers were keeping one 
jump ahead of the rising sky-line. The suspended steam eleva- 
tor was succeeded by the hydraulic and the hydraulic piston 
types, which were supreme from the late 70’s until the early 
go’s. The electric elevator was slow to appear, because no way 
could be found to step the load on the motor gently up and 
down. When this problem was solved, the electric elevator eo 
placed the hydraulic types. 

During this period, building materials and appliances in 
great variety were brought out to meet the needs of this re- 
created art of building. Terra Cotta, one of the oldest of the 
ceramic arts, took on a new impetus, yet held its ancient 
name, and at first could only be made by us in reddish color. 
The ceramic arts had long ministered to construction, follow- 
ing closely its ever increasing needs. With the advent of the 
new metropolitan structure, came the demand for new sani- 
tary standards. Enamels and tiles were ushered in, both for 
sanitary and decorative purposes, and the enamel-surfaced sky- 
scraper was conceived to offset the grime and soot of a smoky 
city. Heating had come as a corollary to steam engineering, 
and the science of ventilation by engine-driven fans had been 
well established even in the early 80’s. The advent of electric 
motors in the late 80’s and early go’s had greatly stimulated 
the use of ventilation and had made possible some of the 
basic usages still current in the science of ventilation; and 
last of all, the development of electric illumination and the 


Courtesy oy Otis Elevator Co. 


High-speed, traction elevators, overhead machinery. The switchboard (left) with controls automatically steps 

up or down the speed of the car. The motor generators, down centre, are known as the variable voltage control 

machines, which vary the voltage on the main motors. The cables running over the sheaves of the main 
machine on the right lift directly on the elevator cars. 


Courtesy of A. B. See Elevator Co. 


Elevator overhead machines showing solenoid brakes, which are held apart against the pressure of heavy 

springs. In the event of the failure of the electric current, the magnetism leaves the solenoids and the springs 

bring the heavy jaws of the brakes together, thus stopping the turning of the sheaves and preventing any car 
movement until the brakes have been released. 


4A, SKYSCRAPERS 


telephone had crowned the possibilities of metropolitan build- 
ing development. 

The skyscraper was possible in Chicago because Chicago 
was young and bold and short on precedent. In New York, 
with a history of two centuries behind it, the building code 
was rigid, men were more conservative, and no such experi- 
mentation would have been permitted. Only after it had 
been tried and proved in the Western city—and then hesi- 
tatingly—did the New York Building Department approve 
the plans for the steel-skeleton Tower Building on lower 
Broadway in 1889. A tablet, set in the lobby before the build- 
ing was demolished in 1914, to be replaced by one much > 
higher, bore the erroneous statement that it was the first of 
all skeleton structures. | 


SSees. 
fd ft 
EGE See’ 


i 
34 
bat 


Courtesy of Victor May per. 


Demolition of the old Harper Building, New York City. Probably the first “fireproof” 

building to use metal beams, columns, and girders, and masonry floor arches. Note the 

ornamental form of the old-fashioned ‘“‘bow-string”’ girders left exposed for architectural 

embellishment. Such construction is now regarded as dangerous, as all modern building 
laws require structural metal to be encased in fireproofing. 


CHAPTER IV 


eee wey OLOPMENTS CREATE AN ARCHITECTURAL 
SH ED 


Tue skyscraper has had to submit for forty years to the 
abuse and patronage of zsthetic critics, many of them archi- 
tects of note. It was a thing of hideousness and hateful for- 
ever, a dry-goods box. Woe unto a people who could produce 
such an abomination! Going back through the architectural 
journals, I have been amazed at how rarely a critic sensed that 
this ugly duckling was a great new art form in embryo, capa- 
ble of breathless beauties. Even the Woolworth Building, 
which is a joy forever, was anathema to them, a “five-and-ten 
cathedral.” 

The first edition of the New International Encyclopedia, 
1904, under the heading of Architecture, dismissed the sky- 
scraper with these words: 


In spite of the radical character of these changes in construction and 
plan, no sign of any architectural result has appeared. This is in part 
owing to the purely commercial character of the buildings. They .. . 
must be as inexpensive as possible in order that the rentals may bear a 
better proportion to the cost. Hitherto in the history of the world, no 
architecture of any value has been developed out of any such con- 
dition. 


The further claim may be made for the skyscraper, then, 
that it did, for the first time in history, produce an architec- 
ture of value out of purely commercial conditions. 

The conception of the World’s Columbian Exposition, 
known as the World’s Fair, in Chicago, arose from a national 
desire to commemorate the four hundredth anniversary of the 
discovery of America by Columbus. Originally scheduled for 
the year 1892, it did not in fact open until 1893. It was a gi- 
gantic undertaking, measured even by the standards of to-day, 

45 : 


46 SKYSCRAPERS 


supported by a popular enthusiasm that perhaps was never 
before approached by our nation. Men of national importance 
in every walk of life gave of their means and talents, but it is 
significant that in the great adventure, architecture and build- 
ing took their proper places of pre-eminence, and the leading 
figures of the architectural and engineering world were placed 
in positions of high authority in shaping the destiny of that 
great undertaking. 

It was my privilege as a boy to have lived in Chicago in the 
very shadow of that great enterprise, and to have known and 
come in contact with many of the men who created its ade- 
quacy and beauty. D. H. Burnham was the great leading fig- 
ure, but there were others, still great names in the world in 
which we builders live—Atwood, Root, McKim, Sullivan, 
Holabird, Coolidge, Day, Post, are names that I remember; 
and among the engineers, I think of the Shanklands, Hender- 
son, Purdy, Gaiver, Vanderberg, Gray, Weiskopf. These are 
only a few—personal reminiscences, if you will, with perhaps 
more important names omitted. It is not my purpose to at- 
tempt a galaxy of immortals, but to show the contrast in the 
point of view brought about by sixteen short years since the — 
directors of that prior exposition had regarded the architect 
as inadequate in the design of their buildings, and turned the 
matter over to engineers to rid the management of a trouble- 
some preliminary. 

Only sixteen years in time, but centuries in ideals, divided 
the Philadelphia Centennial of 1876 and the Chicago Exposi- 
tion. The beauty and splendor of the World’s Fair still echoes — 
clearly and no doubt will go down to everlasting posterity as 
first of all a great architectural and building triumph. Descrip- 
tion is beggared by what it all was, and illustrations must re- 
call some of those lovely creations that stirred poets and 
thrilled the masses with the possibilities of the sheer beauty of 
architecture when truly applied. 


LATER DEVELOPMENTS 47 


“On the lakeside, a rough, unkempt and tangled siretch 
of dune and swamp became transmuted into a shimmering 
dream of loveliness under the magic touch of landscape gar- 
dener and architect and artist,’ Harry Thurston Peck wrote 
in 1905. “No felicity of language can bring before the eye 
that never saw them these harmonies which consummate art, 
brooding lovingly over Nature, evolved into that spectacle of 
beauty. Not one of the twelve million human beings who set 
foot within the Court of Honor, the crowning glory of the 
whole, could fail to be thrilled with a new and poignant sense 
of what both art and Nature truly mean. The stately colon- 
nades, the graceful arches, the clustered sculptures, the gleam- 
ing domes, the endless labyrinth of snowy columns, all diver- 
sified by greenery and interlaced by long lagoons of quiet 
water—here were blended form and color in a symmetrical 
and radiant purity such as modern eyes, at least, had never 
looked upon before. 

“It was the sheer beauty of its ensemble, rather than the 
wealth of its exhibits, that made this exposition so remarkably 
significant in its effect upon American civilization. It revealed 
to millions of Americans whose lives were colorless and nar- 
row the splendid possibilities of art and the compelling power 
of the beautiful. The far-reaching influence of the demonstra- 
tion was not one that could be measured by any formal test. 
But a study of American conditions will certainly reveal an ac- 
celerated appreciation of the graces of life and a quickening 
of the esthetic sense throughout the whole decade which fol- 
lowed the creation of what Mr. H. C. Bunner most felicitously 
designated as the White City.” 

As Mark Sullivan, who quotes these words in his “Our 
Times,” points out, it was Main Street that went to the fair. 
The “‘best people” had a slight disdain for it. And as Mr. 
Sullivan adds, “Not merely for a decade but unto this day the 
Chicago World’s Fair left its mark in all the fruits of an im- 


A8 SKYSCRAPERS 


mense stimulation of the American mind. It took chromo art 
from the walls of American parlors; to it more than one city 
owes the greater beauty of its avenues, parks and ornaments; 
thousands of American homes the greater beauty of their 
architecture, furniture and decorations; millions of Americans 
their greater appreciation of beauty and their greater oppor- 


tunity to enjoy We 


“Tt is difficult now to realize,’ Charles Moore wrote in his — 


life of Burnham, “‘the change that came over American archi- 
tecture as the result of the Chicago Fair. Nor is it possible to 
estimate the relative values of the influences that were at work 
to bring about this change. From the East came men like 
Charles Eliot Norton, who had been preaching the gospel of 
the saving remnant and who saw a vision. If such things were 
possible in Chicago, there was yet hope for a country steeped 
in commercialism, crude in manners and brutal in the use of 
sudden wealth. He rejoiced that he had lived to see the day in 
his own beloved country when architect, sculptor, painter, 
and landscape architect could be brought together to produce 
results that recalled, in spirit at least, the triumphs of the Mid- 
dle Ages.” 

As such a session of architects, sculptors, painters, and land- 
scape men, gathered to create the Columbian Exposition, 
broke up one afternoon in 1891, Augustus Saint-Gaudens, 
who had sat silent in a corner during the entire day, leaped 
up, grasped Burnham’s two hands and demanded: 

“Look here! Do you realize that this is the greatest meet- 
ing of artists since the fifteenth century?” 

The wonders of the exhibitions, of course, kept pace. The 
gap of sixteen years since the Centennial was almost like the 
gap of a hundred years that had preceded the earlier event. 
Supremely acclaimed by the exposition were the science of 
electricity and the science of structural engineering, the one 
almost unknown and the other but dimly understood in the 


Ss ae 


" Fe j 
ee ee ee ee ae 


LATER DEVELOPMENTS 49 


Centennial, now come to be two essential cornerstones of all 
constructional development. ‘““What hath God wrought!” was 
the message from Queen Victoria at the opening of the Atlan- 
tic Cable in 1858. The exclamation seemed wholly inadequate 
to those who beheld the structural accomplishments and archi- 
tectural beauties of the Columbian Exposition. 

This second period from 1892, the year of the Chicago 
World’s Fair, until 1914, the outbreak of the World War, is 
of a very different character from that earlier one. It was in 
this period that the science and art of building found them- 
selves. Yes, found themselves hugely and magnificently, for 
they consolidated in that period of twenty-two years all of 
their own vast accumulations. It was a period of gigantic un- 
dertakings and vast construction projects. Adjectives and su- 
perlatives unbounded pass in swift array before the mind’s 
eye in the futile attempt to measure and describe all that hap- 
pened in that brief period, but these outstanding accomplish- 
ments proclaim themselves. They were the great improve- 
ment in structural steel and the full understanding of its prop- 
erties and possibilities; the scientific development and applica- 
tion of structural, reinforced concrete; and the high develop- 
ment and perfection of the passenger elevator. Other develop- 
ments, of course, took their important places, but those three 
were virtually new, and the elevator, combined with either 
structural steel or structural concrete, absolutely necessary to 
any progress in modern skyscraper development as we know it. 

Buildings, everywhere buildings! Cities rebuilt and wastes 
reclaimed. We stand in the midst of our work and try to sur- 
vey it, and that is all quite impossible at this time. The impe- 
tus of the former period took on new acceleration. Volume of 
construction mounted by geometric progression. All over the 
country it was rightly the gauge of material progress, and cities 
vied with each other in their towering structures. The oil- 
created wealth of the Southwest expressed itself in the great 


50 SKYSCRAPERS 


structures of those prairie cities, and the Southeast, the old 
South of the Confederacy, felt the warming pulse of its new- 
found industrial life, and proceeded to adorn its quaint old 
cities with great metropolitan structures. The building of the 
Singer, Metropolitan, and Woolworth towers in New York, 
each successively enjoying for a brief period the distinction 
of being the highest, was answered by Seattle almost immedi- 
ately by the construction of the L. C. Smith Building in that 
city, some forty-two stories high. Bigness and height com- 
menced to cloy the public mind and the statistics of immen- 
sity grew tiresome, as the kaleidoscope continued to turn and 
reveal the ever bewildering superlatives of height and size. 
More important, if less spectacular, was the development of 
the science of building, the science of interior arrangement, 
and the appropriate use of materials. American architecture 
as a thing of utilitarian beauty in the main held true to its 
course, although it did have its debauches and no doubt will 
continue to have them. But it progressed with the times; in- 


deed, it led as it should, and already has won the prize of in- 


dividuality to which I have so often referred. 

During this period the science and art of structural con- 
crete came into practical application and established itself as 
a great and indispensable factor. Serving particularly the en- 
larging industrial life of our nation, and indeed the world, it 
has perhaps found its greatest and best application in the huge 
industrial plants of the country, although it has also become 
a sharp contender with structural steel in practically the en- 
tire field of construction. 

Like other branches of construction, the early beginnings 
of structural concrete are obscured in the swiftness with which 
its development occurred. As in attempting to give the names 
of those who originated modern building construction, it is dif- 
ficult to say just who was responsible for the triumphs of mod- 
ern, reinforced concrete. Certainly, the names of Ransome and 


— ee eS ee 


LATER DEVELOPMENTS ‘amt 


Hennebique would not be omitted from any roster, but hav- 
ing named a few, the true answer must be that the industry de- 
veloped itself. 

Toward the end of the period we are discussing, we com- 
menced to observe the advent of obsolescence in some of the 
proud structures of yesterday. Here and there tall buildings of 
from ten to twenty stories, built in the approved manner, 
commenced to yield to the wrecker to make way for larger 
and more important buildings. The amazed architect and en- 
gineer who had designed a structure supposedly for all time, 
stood on the sidewalk and saw their works demolished to make 
way for newer and better things. It was here that we picked 
our way over the debris and wreckage to see what time had 
done. First, how good had been the structural frame, and 
then, how enduring the other materials? The answer was a 
complete vindication of the science. We had builded better 
than we knew. 

Foreign lands, during this period, had seen and sensed the 
growing importance that our structures had played in our ris- 
ing economic life, and sporadic quickening in some of the Eu- 
ropean cities gave rise to some few remarkable structures. 
Their tardy observation of the incidence of our work may have 
been in a large part responsible for their skipping in a measure 
the structural steel period and addressing a larger part of their 
effort to reinforced concrete. Foreign engineers and builders 
have certainly contributed their full share to the development 
of structural concrete. But the tall metropolitan building still 
remained a distinctly American product. Oddly enough, while 
our architects were studying the ancient classics, these foreign 
architects and engineers were observing our structures here, 
and by the paradox that seems ever to beset human nature, 
they showed a tendency to pass over their own great funda- 
mentals of classic design and go in for a bizarre and, to us, 
sometimes ludicrous architecture in their groping for a tall 


52 SKYSCRAPERS 


building solution. These efforts of design were given the all- 
embracing name of nouveau art. To-day many cities of Europe 
are over-sprinkled with these grotesque structures, generally 
built of reinforced concrete, and to that extent everlasting 
and indestructible. Perhaps a spirit of repentance will cause 
their eventual disappearance. But in general, the foreigners 
accepted the form but not the substance of what American 
structures were intended to accomplish. Ancient laws and 
ancient usages, ancient vested rights and lethargy seem to have 
laid heavy hands on the genius behind the idea, and it can 
be fairly said that, except for its great assistance in the science 
of reinforced concrete construction, Europe has contributed 
little to the great major development of modern building con- 
struction. 

Japan displayed a curious attitude, for it sent its architects 
and engineers to marvel and copy, and then they went on over 
to Europe and studied the classics with a devotion and zeal that 
might have proclaimed Japan their champion. But the prac- 
tical, stolid architecture and building of England seem to 
have strangely deflected the Japanese compass, due no doubt 
to the preponderant English commercial life in Japan. How- 
ever that may have been, Japan started rebuilding her paper 
and matchwood cities with those ponderous and clumsy, thick- 
walled structures that one associates with Threadneedle Street, 
and while the Japanese avidly pursued reinforced concrete as 
well, their monumental works are largely of the stolid British 
type. I speak now of those structures built up to the begin- 
ning of the World War,—the period we are discussing. 

The third period is that which spans the time from the out- 
break of the World War in 1914 to the present. About four- 
teen years have passed, but it is a fair prediction that posterity 
may give it the place of most importance in the three con- 
sidered, because it measures the economic consolidation of all 
that had gone before, the recasting of values, the survey of 


(Left.) Formerly Japanese building operations were enclosed with matting on great poles. Such enclosures are 
fire hazards. The builders explained that they did not wish to offend the eyes of the Emperor by exposing to 
view their unfinished work. (Right.) Native carpenter at work. 


Japanese native stone-cutters. Note the workman- The hod-carrier gives way to the coolie with the scale 
ship on the granite lantern in the background. beam. 


From photographs by the author, 


54 SKYSCRAPERS 


accomplishment and, not the least, the review of the errors and 
mistakes of the vast tide of construction that had surged up- 
ward since that remote time in the early go’s when engineers 
and architects, still living and active, dared to put into mighty 
structures the dreams and calculations and conclusions of their 
own creation. 

The sudden cataclysm of the World War in 1914 shook 
the construction industry, as it did everything else. It shud- 
dered and careened, but in a measure righted itself and pro- 
ceeded to adjust to the novel economic conditions. Economists 
have rightly hit upon that year, 1914, as the baseline from 
which to measure all post-war readjustments. Therefore, be- 
yond noting that the commencement of the struggle engen- 
dered a certain acceleration in war industries, with their con- 
sequent demands on construction, the earlier event was only 
the zephyr that heralded the tornado of 1917. 

It has been previously said that not every engineer is a 
builder, nor is every builder an engineer. But the work of the 
builders in the World War has its important bearing on con- 
struction development, and consideration of the builder and 
engineer as one will help in the explanation of the part the sky- 
scraper builders played in that great drama. 

And now we have the difficult problem of defining what 
happened only yesterday when the mighty structure of the con- 
struction industry, grown beyond all measuring—powerful 
but unco-ordinated, teeming with strength, but not knowing ~ 
itseli—fared forth on the troubled waters of national defense. 

Engineering had its birth in military activity. The “in- 
genieur’’ was the bridge and road and trench and redout build- 
er of the armies of Napoleon and earlier, picked for his in- 
genuity by the armies of old, hence his name. West Point was 
founded shortly after the Revolution to teach the science of 
engineering to officers, and our earliest ventures in engineer- 
ing schools laid emphasis on their value as an instrument of 


sa ccescsatests abi nT my 


“skeleton construction.” Heavily timbered roof, and walls with movable 


(Left.) Japanese solution of 
“‘shoji,”’ paper-covered sash. Plain wall surfaces constructed of a weaving of bamboo wattles plastered over 
smoothly with clay mixed with wood fibre. (Right.) Japanese workmen take to rivetting. 


Both in setting and design, the Imperial Theatre, A corner of the Imperial Palace Grounds, Tokio. 
Tokio, shows the Japanese appreciation of classic Simple native architecture and virile ancient stone 
architecture. construction. 


From photographs by the author. 


nd 


56 SKYSCRAPERS 


national defense in training engineer officers. And yet the na- 
tion was hurled into that mighty struggle knowing the builders 
and engineers on every hand as individuals, but knowing them 
not at all as a great potential force, necessary beyond imagina- 
tion to the war preparation and holding the key to what the 
nation must first of all have—structures for war preparation. 

It was my privilege to serve as an officer in the army at a 
point where I could well survey the construction aspect of the 
mighty drama. And it may, therefore, be of some interest here 
to review my observation of what happened in those early 
few weeks when the nation, in a frenzy for munitions and 
men and implements, fairly overlooked its first prime neces- 
sity and left construction and its co-ordinate forces to proclaim 
themselves. 

A few hours’ inquiry showed that, among other things, 
the army would require sixteen cantonments, each to house 
and train about forty thousand men; sixteen national guard 
camps which, while lightly dismissed, turned out to be about 
as complicated as the cantonments; some twenty to thirty 
flying fields, which were in effect great military posts; am- 
munition storage bases, themselves veritable cities; ware- 
houses at a dozen points, any one of which would exceed in 
size almost any then existing terminal in the country; and gi- 
gantic exportation bases at strategic points along our seaboard. 
This was for the army only. The navy had its demands which, 
while not so extensive, were of equal importance. Then there 
appeared the enlargements of industrial plants that had to be 
constructed with government funds and under government 
auspices. And for the organization to handle these things, 
then only faintly perceived by the army in its anxiety to make 
ready for war, there were a colonel and two captains in the 
Construction and Repair branch of the Quartermaster Corps. 

There is no intention to make this a humorous arraignment 
of our government, but an indictment of ourselves as a na- 


Owing to earthquake conditions Japanese skyscrapers are limited to 100 feet in height or about eight stories. 

This large office building in Tokio has a heavy structural steel frame to resist earthquake action. The outside 

walls are of a hollow common brick, and the exterior surface is a tile about an inch thick in imitation of 
face-brick. 


Transporting a ten-ton steel column by means of bullock teams in Japan. Heavy motorized equipment for this 
kind of hauling is not yet in use. The light culverts and stone bridges over the canals in the cities of Japan 
present great difficulties for heavy traffic. 


Courtesy of George A. Fuller Co. 


58 SKYSCRAPERS 


tion unprepared. Where had we been? What had we en- 
gineers and builders been doing that all of this monstrous sit- 
uation could possibly be? The truth is we had, with the rest 
of the nation, dozed off in the lethargy of smug content- 
ment, with calamity fairly shrieking at our gates. The lotus 
sleep, dear to the heart of the pacifist, had all but overtaken 
us. Those early nightmare days and nights! No offices—no 
stenographers or facilities, a little stationery filched from 
wherever we could get it—conferences held in elevators as 
they plied up and down—meetings frequently held leaning 
against the marble wainscoting in the corridors of the over- 
crowded buildings of the War Department in Washington. 
The one outstanding light in the bewilderment was the in- 


stant response of the building and engineering profession. - 


They came to Washington from everywhere—at our request 
and their own expense. We met, discussed, counselled to- 
gether, and out of it was evolved that triumphant organiza- 
tion, the Construction Division of the Army. The canton- 
ments were launched amid the stress and clamor of a thou- 
sand contending voices and the killing discouragements of a 
bewildered government. How proudly we record the way in 
which the men of our calling hurled themselves into the ef- 
fort. Fortunes were disregarded. The government might take 
their all if only they should be allowed to proceed with the 
tremendous tasks, now in part perceived and crying for in- 
stant commencement. Men took responsibilities involving mil- 
lions with no better authority than the word of a construction 
officer. Into the field moved the hastily organized supervisory 
forces of the government with the engineers and builders, 
there to work out together as they built, the details, major and 
minor, of the cantonments and camps so sorely needed. Waste- 
ful, yes—for we were paying the penalty of impotence and un- 
_ preparedness, but honestly and conscientiously done, with little 
heed to personal consequence. The peace-time order of things 


LATER DEVELOPMENTS 59 


had all been reversed. Speed was the prime consideration—cost 
of secondary importance. 

Such was the part of the builder of skyscrapers in the World 
War, harrowing, anxious months that seemed like years; but 
they were supreme in adventure. 

And now we look about us to see what we are to-day, and 
perhaps have the audacity to enquire whither we are going. 
What has been the characteristic of the period from the war 
until now? More buildings and yet more buildings. The 
mighty tide of construction was not interrupted, but only di- 
verted to war requirements. And we are apparently continu- 
ing the geometric progression of progress and volume. Let 
us not so much try to measure it as to observe what it is doing. 
Since the close of the war economists agree that we have been 
in a great current of economic readjustment, only dimly per- 
ceived in its consequences, yet all-embracing and with a por- 
tentous destiny. 

One singular and significant fact of skyscraper construction 
here stands out, and that is its power fairly to move centres of 
cities. Under the old order, the cross roads, vast traffic streams 
and dense population knew no law but itself, and intensive 
building submissively remained where density had ordained 
it should stay. But now it is different. Great structures can 
actually beckon the trends of population and traffic, and in a 
measure can compel the shifting of economic centres of gravi- 
ty. Witness the growth of Cleveland as it shot out Euclid Ave- 
nue, abandoning the century-old focus at the Square, and 
creating in a decade substantially a new city where only 
yesterday were residences. Washington, our national capital, 
continues to grow toward its new business settlement north- 
west of the Treasury and the White House, those far-flung 
outposts set by former generations to mark the utmost possi- 
ble limits of growth in that direction. 

Dozens of like examples could be cited, for what growing 


60 SKYSCRAPERS 


city is there in this country that does not feel the urge of the 
modern skyscraper to readjust its focus to new locations? The 
forces that compel these changes are diverse and complex, but 
certain it is that our modern construction plays a large part 
in the cause—a new economic force in the world. 

Our buildings since the war have been all that they were 
before, but we are scrutinizing them from an added view- 
point. Their economic relation is more clearly observed. In 
industry, as never before, the fitting of the building to the 
processes of manufacture has taken an enormous impetus. 
High costs have forced the minute scrutiny of every foot of 
constructed area and volume. The obsolescence of earlier struc- 
tures has been enormously accelerated by these considerations. 
High specialization of industry has had its telling effect, and 
never before have we been so called upon for specialized struc- 
tures. This is true not only of office buildings, but of other 
forms of intensive, metropolitan structures. Obsolescence fairly 


treads on the heels of early maturity. This is more particularly 
true in all forms of intensive residential construction, such as ~ 


apartment buildings and hotels, but it is also measurably true 
of office buildings. The interesting thing is that the obsoles- 
cence does not arise from the form or methods of construc- 
tion, but from quickened social and business requirements 
brought about by demands for more conveniences and better 


efficiency. Poor planning in the original instance, antiquated - 


forms of finish and facilities, antiquated and insufficient 
mechanical equipment, and insufficient size—all work for 
obsolescence in the older buildings. We almost never hear of 
buildings of skyscraper type being torn down or abandoned 
through the shift of location, for causes arising out of decreas- 
ing property values; the demolitions are almost invariably to 
make way for bigger and better structures. 

There are notable examples of buildings built even as far 
back as the late go’s, and numerous buildings built within the 


LATER DEVELOPMENTS 61 


succeeding ten years, which have held their own with even 
the latest and most elaborate of our modern structures. It is 
true that these buildings that survive in this way have been 
rehabilitated from time to time, new elevators installed, new 
and modern plumbing and sanitary facilities introduced, as 
much to keep pace with the latest creations as out of any 
sheer necessity. The passenger elevator is not unlike the auto- 
mobile, in that it has been improved from year to year; the 
older types being superseded, both because they wear out and 
because of the vast improvement in the art of elevator con- 
struction. The interesting fact is that, as builders, we in large 
measure anticipated these things in the best of our early build- 
ings, and the provision for bettering the equipment of these 
skyscrapers was thought of by the original designers. 

However, good or bad, the early designers had from the 
very outset solved the structural problems for all forms of tall 
buildings, and those early solutions in the use of structural 
steel still remain the foundation upon which all later designs 
have been built. True, we have built higher and ever higher 
buildings; girders and trusses of undreamed-of proportions 
have been constructed to meet the needs of the vastly compli- 
cated skeleton construction that the greater buildings require. 
Not only have we learned to build these columns and trusses 
but also to handle them at the building site—no small part of 
the problem. But the fundamental principles of civil engineer- 
ing remain the same—truly solved in the earliest instance by 
the structural engineers who set about this great problem in 
the years succeeding the Centennial. 

We speak of poor arrangement—poor planning—as a 
cause for obsolescence, and are at once reminded that archi- 
tecture is not only the art of design, but is also the art of good 
arrangement. That lesson of good arrangement is one that is 
ever being learned, and one that perhaps will never be fully 
and finally solved. Reference has been made to buildings built 


62 SKYSCRAPERS 


in the early go’s, which still hold their own as competitors 
with the most recent structures. This is largely due to the true 
understanding of the art of good planning—so well perceived 
by a few of the early architects of this new form of construc- 
tion, as keen in their vision for the utilitarian requirements of 
the structures that they designed, as in the vision of the possi- 
bility of the skyscraper itself. 

It is almost idle to speculate what further improvement 
there will be. The speed of elevators seems to have reached 
its limitations, due to the requirements of the physical com- 
fort of the passengers. Interior lighting seems as nearly per- 
fect as human requirement would ever demand, and certainly 
plumbing sanitation and the kindred conveniences are well 
enough understood now to give assurance that no great 
changes will be made. It is thinkable that steam heating will 
be superseded by electrical heating. The method of obtaining 
electric light at the desired point may, in the eyes of the vi- 
sionary, some day be accomplished by wireless means. But 
with all of these improvements in mind, the form and good 
arrangement of the skyscraper, as far as man can see, will be 
about the same. It will perhaps be higher and undoubtedly 
cover greater and greater areas. Nearly all of the demolitions 
that we now see, as I have said before, are the replacing of 
smaller buildings by larger ones, both in height and in area 
covered. Buildings covering a whole city block are not now 
uncommon, and they will continue to grow in number. This 
arises from the economic situation too well understood to be 
discussed at length. The operation of these great buildings 
has become a science in itself, and small units under indi- 
vidual separate managements must yield to great units under 
unified management. Such is the trend of the times! 


+ © 


ee ee ee ee eee ee ee ee 


s . 
i os 


CHAPTER V 
BUILDING A SKYSCRAPER 


Ir is a fascinating game, building these great skyscrapers, 
and to those of us who stay in it year after year it’s like strong 
drink; we get so that we just cannot do without the strenuous 
activity of it all. And it is a compelling thing, too; a man gets 
his pride up over it, pride of accomplishment, pride in mak- 
ing good on prediction and forecast. “It can’t be done”’ car- 
ries a challenge that the dyed-in-the-wool builder sometimes 
_ too eagerly accepts. So our business casualties are high—all 
too high for the sweat and toil that go into the game. 

Building skyscrapers is the nearest peace-time equivalent of 
war. In fact, the analogy is startling, even to the occasional 
grim reality of a building accident where maimed bodies, 
and even death, remind us that we are fighting a war of con- 
struction against the forces of nature. And the spirit of the 
Crusader is there, not only in the daring and courage, but also 
in the grief that ensues on these occasional terrible accidents, 
for they do happen in spite of the millions that are spent an- 
nually to prevent them. But the analogy to war is the strife 
against the elements. Foundations are planned away down in 
the earth alongside of towering skyscrapers already built. 
Water, quicksand, rock and slimy clays bar our path to bed- 
rock. Traffic rumbles in the crowded highways high above 
us, and subways, gas and water mains, electric conduits and 
delicate telephone and signal communications demand that 
they be not disturbed lest the nerve system of a great city be 
deranged. Yet we venture down and do it, and from that in- 
accessible bed-rock or hard-pan we turn back upward, with 
accurately laid and adequate foundation structures to support 

63 


64 SKYSCRAPERS 


the incredible weights that the columns of the skyscraper will 
impose; for it is not uncommon to have a thousand tons on a 
single column and a hundred separate columns and footings 
is not over-many as we build skyscrapers nowadays. All this is 
done without settlement or movement of so much as an inch, 
and with accuracy of position that regards the variation of an 
eighth of an inch as the very limit of allowable error. 

Before these things are done, nice calculations have to be 
made of the weight of the building—just how much loading 
will be carried on each column; and then the ground is studied 
and soil conditions analyzed. Not content with all of this, bor- 
ings are taken and test-pits dug—the reconnaissance of a com- 
bat attack on an opponent entrenched from geological eras 
and having all the mighty forces of nature in alliance to re- 
sist and oppose any disturbance of its age-long somnolence. 

And with the foundations completed, only the first trenches 
have been carried, for the superstructure allies itself with 
gravitation and wind-pressure to resist the accomplishment; 
the same gravitation that, in its resistance, serves to make stable 
and everlasting the great skyscrapers that the battle is fought 
to produce. Rain, snow and sleet repeatedly attack, some- 
times with rushing tornadoes, sometimes with the long pro- 
tracted attrition of rainy seasons or continued blizzard and 
cold. Even after the steel of the structure is up and the walls 
well toward completion, as if to make their last violent sortie, 
blizzards rage in those dizzy heights, numbing the bodies and 
hands of the intrepid workmen at their tasks away up aloft, 
while in the streets the busy throngs muffle themselves in 
warm clothing or gather around cheerful radiators, rejoicing 
that civilization has so far advanced to mitigate the terrors of 
an adverse climate. Yet, civilization has done all these things, 
and away up there where the icy winds sweep unrelentingly, 
the forge fires of the riveters hiss and glow while numb hands 
buck up with cold steel dolly-bars, and jack-hammers rattle 


Courtesy of Starrett Brothers, Inc. 


The N 


t neces- 


pper work and the great cast-bronze lantern in the 


10r 1s no 


The completion of a great stone exter 


ted co 


. 


The complica 


ing. 


tower require many weeks of work by expert metal workers. Cass Gilbert, Architect. 


ew York Life Insurance Co. Building, New York 


ly the completion of the build 


Sarl 


66 SKYSCRAPERS 


and clatter defiance to the elements. These are the outposts 
fighting nature back, that nature may be made subservient to 
our common need. Building skyscrapers epitomizes the war- 
fare and the accomplishment of our progressive civilization. 
Even the organization closely parallels the organization of a 
combatant army, for the building organization must be led by 
a fearless leader who knows the fight from the ground up, 
knows the hazards of deep foundations, and the equipment 


that raises the heavy steel and sets the massive stones one on ~ 


another, the hoists and derricks, the mixers and chutes, the 
intricacies of all the complexity of trades that go to make up 
the completed structures; what they may be made to do, and 
where making must cease and daring must be curbed; where 
materials and things come from, and how long it takes to pre- 
pare the different kinds; what to allow for contingencies of 
temporary defeat, and how to consolidate the gains. Ever 
pressing forward, that leader with his lieutenants and they 
with their sub-lieutenants plan and do, ever prevailing over 
inertia, animate and inanimate, until the great operation fairly 
vibrates with the driving force of the strong personalities that 
direct the purposes of everything, seen and unseen, that makes 
for the swift completion of the work in hand. 

The obtaining of materials near and far and the adminis- 
tration of all those thousands of operations that go to make 
up the whole are the major functions of the skyscraper builder. 
Knowledge of transportation and traffic must be brought to 
bear that the building may be built from trucks standing in 


the busy thoroughfares, for here is no ample storage space, — 


but only a meagre handful of material needing constant re- 
plenishment—hour to hour existence. Yet it all runs smoothly 
and on time in accordance with a carefully prepared schedule; 
the service of supply of this peace-time warfare, the logistics 
of building, and these men are the soldiers of a great creative 
effort. 


en a a 


ee eS 


a ee ee ae ee a a ee a 


yy 

aa 

ee i : : 
ee ee ee 


BUILDING A SKYSCRAPER 67 


Marshalling this chaos into order is the commanding field- 
officer of the builder’s troops, the job superintendent. The 
first building on the site will have been his shanty and there 
he will be found workday, holiday and Sunday, until the 
architect signs the certificate of completion. He knows how to 
be vice-president in charge of operations, master mechanic, 
superintendent, train master and chief despatcher keeping the 
traffic of a four-track road moving on time through the bottle- 
neck on a single pair of rails. He may be a jack of all trades 
and a master of many, but he is no superintendent unless he 
knows how to organize and how to delegate. Emergencies 
pound at his door day and night, and he must know the an- 
swer without looking in the book. Back of him stands the 
master builder who has travelled the same road and who has 
equipped him with everything necessary to the job except the 
know-how and the driving power; these he must supply him- 
self. A poor superintendent often 1s felt on the job before the 
cost sheets and the slipping time schedule reveal his incom- 
petence utterly. 

As the young engineers come out of college and enlist as 
clerks and time-keepers, their goal after a year or two of ap- 
prenticeship is to be an assistant superintendent, or, as he is 
inadequately called in the trade, a job-runner. These assistants 
are not, as their name implies, the superintendent’s lieuten- 
ants, but liaison officers between builder, architect and sub- 
contractors. While the skyscraper gets under way they are in 
the architect’s office asking how this detail is to be built, how 
that, and carrying the information to the sub-contractors who 
make their shop drawings therefrom. For each sub-contractor 
must be prepared to take up his own special task in order, and 
few items come in stock sizes. 

While the steel work is nearing completion away up in 
the upper reaches of the skyscraper and we break out with our 
masonry on one of the upper floors, where the substantial 


68 SKYSCRAPERS 


brickwork of the building as it rises above the slender, ex- 
posed columns of the lower floors makes the structure look a 
bit ludicrous, many things are happening, not only in the 
complicated interior of the building, but at the shops, in the 
mills, and in fact, far and near throughout our great industrial 
centres; for they all minister to the building of a skyscraper. 
Organized forethought translates itself into active organiza- 
tion. Here in a manufacturing plant a thousand miles from 
the job, an expediter from the builder’s office is checking up ~ 
on a great blower of special capacity and dimensions, designed 
by the ventilating engineers while the job was still merely on 
paper, to fit in a certain cramped location away down in the 
bowels of the building. It is about ready for shipment and 1s 
needed because the sidewalk beams cannot be set until the 
blowers arrive. The steel erectors are about to finish, away up 
aloft, and the job superintendent knows that it is important 
to have the sidewalk beams completed while the erectors are 
still on the job. Moreover, the time schedule calls for it; that 
schedule prepared long ago before the wrecking commenced. 

In New England, another expediter is arranging for the 
loading of the granite, checked off piece by piece, for every 
piece has a separate cutting diagram, not only showing each 
stone as an integral part of the design, but also showing how 
that granite must be cut away on the back to fit securely on 
those same sidewalk beams that are giving the man in De- 
troit so much concern. Inside, plumbers, steamfitters, electri- 
clans swarm over the job getting in their piping, for pipes are 
everywhere, while down in the depths, now brightly lighted 
day and night, sheet metal workers hang great ducts that 
twist and turn and dodge pipes and squeeze between girders, 
that fresh air in ample volume may be conducted to those 
depths by the fan that Detroit is making. Drawings, always 
drawings, depict all of this; those same drawings that the en- 
gineers were preparing when the site still held the old build- 


x oy OB ne 


Photograph by Ewing Galloway. 


Heavy masonry foundation avoided by building on 
steel stilts. The building fronts on the street at the Washington Square, Washington Arch, and the be- 
high level. ginning of Fifth Avenue, New York. The skyscraper 


tower by Helmle & Corbett, Architects. 


eS 


C. W. & Geo. L. Rapp, Architects. Trowbridge & Livingston, Architects 


Night illumination used to glorify architecture on the The Equitable Trust Company Building, New York, 
Great White Way. Paramount Building, New York. about a month before completion. Note the dirt chute 


necessary to carry off the vast amount of rubbish. 


Courtesy of Thompson-Starrett Company. 


70 SKYSCRAPERS 


ings now demolished. When that granite arrives, it will be set 
to align perfectly with the masonry of those walls started away 
up there while yet the stone was being cut. In all of this, and 
in fact, throughout the whole conduct of the job, the column- 
centres on the architect’s and structural engineer’s drawings 
control all matters of exact location. 

Thus, the steel columns must have been set true and plumb; 
plumbed by a special crew, after the erectors have left the © 
floor and before the riveting on that floor is started, for the 
erectors only hastily bolt their work as they forge ahead; yet 
the riveting must follow close behind, for the masonry floor 
arches are also pressing from below in this race to reach the 
top. How it all dovetails! One trade following and intermin- 
gling with another, yet all in orderly fashion and all in ac- 
cordance with the schedule. It is the job superintendent who 
controls this great piece of team work, and as the succeeding 
trades are marshalled and embark upon their work, the whole 
job becomes imbued with his driving force, and every one on 
it senses the quality of leadership that guides it all. Here again 
the analogy to a combatant army is striking, for we all know 
that our fighting forces are only as good as the officers who 
lead them. Yet in the main office, the skill and experience of 
the master builder control. In spite of much that we see go- 
ing on in this building game that gives discouragement, and 
sets men of life-long training and devotion to wondering, 
building is a great and inspiring calling, and the master build- 
er is still supreme. Quality in building still asserts itself, and 
our great national pride, the skyscraper, still holds bounteous 
opportunity for the exercise of the builder’s art and fore- 
thought. 

The spectacular work of excavating, shoring and founda-— 
tions, particularly where steam shovels are employed and 
heavy derricks lift great weights, has a fascination for the pub- 
lic to the extent that the crowds of spectators on the side- 


tee 
bas 


i 


ae 


Courtesy of John Griffiths & Son Co. 


The Chicago Temple Building, Chicago; 

Holabird & Roche, Architects. In com- 

mercial centres churches have in many 

cases been forced into combination with 
office buildings. 


bua 


S.8 ES 


Courtesy of W. B. Foshay Co. 


The fulfillment of W. B. Foshay’s life ambition 
—a thirty-two story tower in Minneapolis. with 
“battered”? columns tapering the building like 
the Washington Monument. Magney & Tusler, 

Architects. 


72 SKYSCRAPERS 


walk would actually block progress, not to say endanger their | 
own lives, if they were encouraged to loiter; hence the for- 
bidding fences that the builder puts around the lot as soon as 
he can. As the structure rises, steel setting is perhaps even 
more spectacular, but here the point of vantage is anywhere 
in the street, and the public sees it and has learned to under- 
stand it better. Setting of exterior stone work has but a meager 
fascination after the spectacular feats of the steel workers, and 
brick-laying is almost prosaic, excepting that we like to note 
the progress from day to day and admire the speed with which 
a great structure is enclosed. A story of brick work a day is a 
usual accomplishment for the well-organized builder. Then 
follows the glazing, and all of a sudden, the building seems to 
stop, for it loses its spectacular interest. 

Very different is the situation within those four walls, 
where to the builder’s eye the major part of the operation is 
still to be done. The floor arches have been finished and the 
piping for the electrical, plumbing and heating work has all 
been done. Then comes the bustle of building partitions, al- 
ways of fire- -proof material accurately laid, with doorways lo- 
cated and minute attention to floor plans, because already the 
renting agents have been renting space and there are many 
special lay-outs and arrangements upon which leases have al- 
ready been closed. All the special locations of electrical outlets, 
base plugs and telephone outlets, if the lay-out has been care- 
fully made, must be indicated for the guidance of the builder, 
and they are taken care of as these masonry partitions are be- 
ing built. 

The plumber’s “risers” and piping must be tested before 
they are built in. If the building is a tall one, this test is car- 
ried on in sections of ten to fifteen floors at a time, thus avoid- 
ing too long delay in the partition work. Joining and follow- 
ing all of this comes an army of carpenters, metal lathers, sheet 
metal workers, marble and tile workers, cement floor finish- 


BUILDING A SKYSCRAPER io 


ers, elevator constructors, and what not—all marching in in- 
terlocked procession, for the sequence is complex. 

In the superintendent’s temporary office down on the 
bridge, daily conferences are held, either the foremen or rep- 
resentatives of the various sub-contractors attending, all intent 
upon working to the common plan which the superintendent 
has set, the same plan that was devised in the builder's main 
office away back when the time schedule was made and the 
builder planned the execution of it all. 

The completion of plastering is the goal of the builder to- 
ward the.finished work, as the completion of the steel is the 
goal on exterior. The enormous amount of rubbish and dirt 
incidental and seemingly necessary to plastering stops all con- 
sideration of the finish, such as painting and carpentry where 
interior woodwork is used, and indeed, even marble and tile 
work; for, while marble and tile are sometimes set close on 
the heels of plastering and sometimes even before the plaster- 
ing is finished, these two items appeal to the visual satisfaction 
which, in the last analysis, must be the criterion of the build- 
er’s art. He may build with the conscience of a saint and the 
integrity of a trustee, but if in the finished building plaster 
surfaces are not true and straight, if expensive marble is 
cracked, tile work chipped, and painting marred, condemna- 
tion pursues him. 

It is for this reason that the expert builder still clings to 
craftsmanship, and encourages it, for in spite of the standardi- 
zation and pre-construction which have inevitably followed 
high wages and the division of labor, we cannot get away 
from the necessity of craftsmanship. This necessity has 
prompted the New York Building Congress to establish as one 
of its most important functions the awarding of craftsman- 
ship certificates and tokens. This custom, although young, has 
already seized the imagination of the building industry and 
the architectural profession. 


74 SKYSCRAPERS 


The initial move in the process of awarding these certifi- 
cates arises when a special board of the Congress selects some 
notable building under construction where craftsmanship of 
high order may be expected. A representative of the owner, of 
the architect, the builder and of labor make a study of the 
work for a period of several weeks prior to the award. On the 
appointed day, there is an appropriate ceremony and one 
craftsman in each trade to be considered 1s given his diploma, 
together with a lapel button, not necessarily for the workman 
of greatest productive effort, nor yet for minute skill, but, as 
the word implies, for general craftsmanship and high ability. 
Needless to say, such awards are highly prized by the men 
and have a significance beyond the mere token presented. It 
is the effort of the building industry in all its interests to re- 
turn to that spirit which guided the great structures of old 
and from which we seem unhappily to be parted in the mad 
mechanical application of our new-found instrumentalities of 
building construction. 

We Americans always like to think of things in terms of 
bigness; there is a romantic appeal in it, and into our na- 
tional pride has somehow been woven the yardstick of big- 
ness. Perhaps that is one of the reasons we are so proud of our 
structures; they are big, very big, certainly the tallest and cer- 
tainly the most complex and the most compelling the world 
has ever seen. They fairly personate the hustle and bustle of 
our modern accomplishment and postulate our ideal of efh- 
ciency, and they are our national pride because they are so 
completely American. So the bigness of the business as a whole 
we enjoy gasping over. Just think of it—over six billion dol- 
lars a year are spent on recorded structures in cities and towns 
that have official records on such matters. And that is not all, 
because throughout the length and breadth of the land, in 
hamlets, on the plains, in the mountains, everywhere there is 
sure to be building of some sort—always the spontaneous prod- 


BUILDING A SKYSCRAPER 75 


uct of a virile and progressive people, always the token of a 
progressive nation. One enthusiast puts the unrecorded build- 
ing at another six billion, but no matter—one six billion is 
enough to cloy the mind and give sufficient warrant for our 
claim that we are the greatest builders the world has ever 
seen. 

Billions roll off the tongue so easily that to come back to mil- 
lions seems like a humbling of our thoughts. Yet the spending of 
a few paltry millions in a single structure, all within the com- 
pass of a year, may still hold an interest; and when one views 
it as a great and complicated operation involving skill and dar- 
ing, with a wealth of adventure and the joy of fulfillment of a 
hard task well done, the scale of bigness may again grip the 
imagination, and in the story of how it is all done may yet be 
held the romance of a triumph no less stirring than the victory 
of battle, or the leading of a nation into the paths of peace and 


prosperity. 


Courtesy of Marc Eidlitz & Son, Inc. 


Harkness Memorial, Yale University, New Haven, Conn. A medieval design of modern 
construction. James Gamble Rogers, Architect. 


CHAP TER sy) 
PLANNING AND FORETHOUGHT 


Arcuirects design buildings and draw plans in interpreta- 
tion of the requirements of the owner. Engineers design the 
steel skeletons and foundations in accordance with the require- 
ments of the design. Other engineers design heating, lighting, 
plumbing and ventilation in accordance with those same archi- 
tectural requirements. Builders devise ways and means of ac- 
complishing the completed whole. And the lowly owner pays 
or devises ways and means of payment for it all. Some men or 
organizations are combinations of two or more of the separate 
functions, and indeed, of late years, we are observing a few 
combinations of all of these in one great complexity. As a com-. 
plexity it is prone to be confusing, but it is of the builder only 
that I speak. Whatever meed of credit and praise is due to each, 
the great American public takes the skyscraper builder to its 
heart; in his ways, his devices and ingenuities, there is the ro- 
mance and the drama, and it is in him that the breathless in- 
terest centres when he comes on the stage. The name of the 
drama is ever the same, yet ever fresh and exciting; it 1s the 
Building of the American Skyscraper. 

He starts to demolish, and at once we all take notice. Some 
eyesore, we are pleased to note, is at last to give way to a great 
improvement; or, we observe with regret that some cherished 
landmark has at last yielded to the demand for a bigger and 
better structure. But if so, “The King is dead; long live the 
King,” wells up in consolation, and in a trice we are lost in ad- 
miration of how it is done, and eager to watch the work in its 
swift progress toward completion. 

76 


ia Ia 


é "BEE RE 


ae 


Courtesy of Starrett Brothers, Inc. 


_ Foundation of the New York Life Insurance Building, New York. The excavation was blasted out of solid 

_ rock and is one of the largest rock excavations ever attempted in Manhattan. In the deep basement the rock 

had to be excavated for over 72 feet below the street level. The rise and fall of the line of solid granite of the 
Island of Manhattan is clearly shown along the walls. 


78 - SKYSCRAPERS 


It all starts away back in an architect’s office, sometimes a 
year or more before the demolition we see, sometimes only a 
few months; but in any event it has to be worked out on paper 
beforehand, the floor plan, the design, the engineering of all 
sorts. The cost has to be estimated as the plans are being drawn; 
a budget of the cost of the various parts is prepared for the gui- 
dance of all concerned. The steel design, all important, must 
have been completed. Tests of the soil are made, or at least soil 
conditions fairly well understood to establish foundation de- 
signs. Plans for heating, ventilating, plumbing and electrical 
work are made; in fact, the building has, in a way, already been 
built on paper before the work we see starts. 

After my early apprenticeship as office boy, it was my good 
fortune to be sent out on one of these operations of sizable ° 
proportions as timekeeper, and it was there that I first took 
part in the application of much about which I had heard. It 
was the everlasting planning that interested me; not only the 
architect’s planning, for that had already largely been done, 
although a deal remained to be done, but it was the planning 
of ways and means—how best to get the old buildings down, 
how so to conduct the wrecking that excavation could start 
at a certain time, and, when started, how it could continue 
at full speed without interruption, and how the succeeding 
step of foundation building could start; how adjoining build- 
ings were to be held up while our work went on uninterrupt- 
edly without danger to those adjoining properties. Planning, — 
everlasting planning—the ways and means are the constant 
concern of the builder. 

Now, a builder, to be any sort of a builder, must work to a — 
time schedule prepared with forethought and out of his ex- 
perience and ability, and I learned in my first job how this — 
was done and how all-important it is. Time, as well as money, 
is spent and both must be budgeted; and the drive is always 
to keep all branches of the work approximately within the 


An addition to this building in Detroit made it necessary to replace the columns below the second floor and 

add piers forty feet deep for the new columns. Temporary trusses were installed and the load of about 500 tons 

to the column was transferred to temporary piers and columns which were pretested to overload. The new 
columns were then installed. 


ins ives Mes eS 


Hudson Department Store, Detroit. Making the general cellar excavation after the caissons, columns, and 
cellar walls had been installed in nits and the steel work erected. 


Courtesy of Spencer, White & Prentis, Inc. 


80 SKYSCRAPERS 


money budget and the time schedule. The essence of the 
building of these great skyscrapers is organized forethought. 

That first outside job of mine was on a comparatively sim- 
ple building, and at that time methods had not been devel- 
oped as fully as now. We struck a sort of quicksand unexpect- 
edly under several of the column footings, and the assump- 
tions of the bearing value of the soil had to be revised. We 
knew from the engineer’s calculations just what load would be 
carried on each footing—that was fixed—but the soil being 
softer than was calculated, the “‘spread”’ of the footing had to 
be increased; that is, it had to be made to cover a larger area 
so that the weight on each square foot of soil covered by the 
footing would be less. Thus, under those columns carrying four 
hundred tons, the soil was calculated to bear four tons to each 
square foot, and the footings were designed to have an area 
of a hundred square feet, or about ten feet square. But in this — 
case, the soil was declared by the engineers to be good for only 
two tons to the square foot; and so the footing under each col- 
umn where this soft soil occurred was enlarged to a trifle over 
fourteen feet square, or two hundred square feet, and the desired 
spread was effected. And here we have a concrete example of 
a simple foundation problem. Foundation work of all sorts, 
whether in rock, on hard-pan or of floating type—spread to 
effect a compressing of soil of known carrying capacity—all 
must take into consideration the loads that each column will 
impose. So it was with the underpinning of the adjoining 
walls; for when an excavation goes deeper than the founda- 
tions of a heavy adjoining structure, underpinning must be 
reckoned with and soil conditions play an important part. 

I have seen some wonderful feats of underpinning. Huge 
buildings, ten to twenty stories and more, caught up on one 
side and held in place while still deeper and more elaborate 
foundations for the new adjoining skyscraper were built along- 
side. And all this was accomplished without so much as a 


PLANNING AND FORETHOUGHT 81 


crack showing in the building shored and underpinned. 
Where this is done with quicksands oozing, and tides rising 
and lowering, with rains and surface waters clamoring to un- 
dermine the work, we have one of the great feats of skill of 
the builder; the accomplishment 1s all his and so 1s the glory. 
He has here truly devised ways and means—his real function 
splendidly performed. 

After a year or two, in which my timekeeping had taught me 
much beside timekeeping, I was assigned as superintendent of 
a sizable structure at the intersection of two busy New York 
streets, but not before I had had an opportunity as job en- 
gineer to run levels and set grades and to lay out the accurate 
lines to which the column centres were laid. It is pretty work, 
this field engineering, carried on with meticulous accuracy, if 
all parts of the building are to fit. In busy cities where land 
values are measured in millions, and public officials are jeal- 
‘ous of encroachment of even small fractions of an inch be- 
yond the building line, where title policies require a nice ac- 
curacy of location, and where an error of more than an eighth 
of an inch makes the steel work difficult to bring together, it 
behooves the builder to see that the field engineering is well 
and truly done. 

About the time that I was given full charge, the foundation 
work had fallen behind schedule. It was a night and day job 
to put on the finishing touches to make ready for the steel, 
then on cars rolling inexorably toward the job, and we 
knew that steel had to be unloaded without delay when it did 
arrive. The erecting gang had been organized, but a riveting 
foreman would be in demand a few days after the derricks 
left the basement. It was a deep, narrow hole, with an old- 
fashioned brick building along the long side, and little oppor- 
tunity to guy a derrick. I was a cub, full of energy and inex- 
perience, but skyscraper building leaves no time for deep medi- 
tations, and so, when a long, lanky Englishman tapped me on 


82 SKYSCRAPERS 


the shoulder, as I was overseeing the derrick erection, I did 
not hesitate to parley with him and in a few minutes I had a 
riveting foreman. It was Sam Parks, that debonair Robin 
Hood of the building industry, who was to rise to command 
of the New York building trades and die in Sing Sing prison. 
Sam produced a pair of overalls, and within an hour his bel- 
lowing voice resounded in that deep excavation, and I knew 
that I had a leader. 

Steel was due the next morning, and the first pieces that 
had to be set were some fifteen-ton girders to be embedded in 
the foundation as a starting point for two rows of columns. 
These girders spanned the narrow dimension of the lot, wall 
to wall, and the deep basement made the problem of lowering 
them into place a difficult one. Just when the last touches 
were being put on the derrick, it toppled and fell, due to a 
faulty lashing, and to cap the climax, the erection foreman 
was slightly injured by the crash, and the mast of the derrick 
broken. There we were, hamstrung, and the cars bearing those 
girders already in the freight yard. It was Sam who came to 
the rescue. 

All that night we worked, clearing up the wreck and pre- 
paring for the oncoming steel; but it was impossible to get 
a new mast. Sam asked what was in the upper part of that 
old brick building adjoining, and together we investigated by 
burglarizing the back door at three in the morning. After ap- 
peasing the watchman we prowled around with lanterns, and 
found that the third floor was a partly vacant loft. Sam went 
back and brought a couple of men with crowbars, and we 
put them to work digging out the bricks, so that in a few 
minutes we had a hole looking out into our excavation through 
which a man could put his head. Then we took the topping- 
lift off the broken mast, and with lines passed out through the 
hole, we raised it up preparatory to improvising a mast out 
of that old building. As the sun was rising, we were hauling 


PLANNING AND FORETHOUGHT 83 


timber up into that loft to strut and brace it for the strain of 
its old life. The store in the ground floor opened up, and the 
manager came running to see what all the pounding and com- 
motion were about. I fear that I aided and abetted Sam as he 
swiftly invented a whimsical tale and waxed eloquent about 
how the falling derrick of last evening had undermined the 
foundations of the old building. The sure way to save it, said 
Sam, was to truss up the third-floor loft. The manager looked 
a bit unconvinced; it didn’t sound just right, but somehow we 
mollified him. We put timbers on the front of the building 
and carried cable lashings from them to our improvised top- 
ping-lift. The store management, becoming incredulous, 
thought they ought to have their own engineers look it over. 
We agreed, but urged that they come the next morning. 
Through the day we improvised a foot-block, and by night- 
fall our makeshift derrick swung easily from the old building 
in anticipation of a good night’s work. Sam’s question to me 
was, “What’ll she stand?” “Lord,” I said, “if I ever figure it, 
we just can’t do it. She won’t stand up to the arithmetic. I’ve 
ordered the girders here for midnight, so we can have the side 
street to ourselves and block traffic while we’re unloading.” 
Talk about great moments! Just at midnight the first truck 
rolled up. Sam stood on the bridge and signalled the boom 
out. The great hook on the fall hung over the middle of the 
girder with the lashings all on it. Then the heavy ring in the 
lashing was put over the hook, and there Sam stood in the 
glare of the floodlights, signalling the hoisting engineer. Traf- 
fic stopped breathlessly; the falls tightened; then the lashings 
creaked, and everything was taut. It seemed ages, and the men 
fell into silence. Creak, creak again from the lashings; bits 
of plaster from the old wall rattled on some planking deep 
down in the hole. I had posted myself at the timbers on the 
outside of the old wall to observe what the gruelling strain 
would do, and to signal Sam if the wall showed signs of cav- 


84 SKYSCRAPERS 


ing in. But like a Viking he stood, complete master of that 
daring escapade. The great girder gently lifted off the truck, 
the men on the tag lines strained, as the massive piece swung 
slowly through the air and paused over its position. Then, 
with the same mastery of the situation, Sam gave the signal 
for lowering, and the engineer, standing alert on the levers of 
the brakes, let the drum slowly unwind; and the great girder 
settled into place. As the strain on the falls eased, cheers went 
up from the men who had stood silent, watching. Sam was 
calm, but triumphant. In that moment he had won the leader- 
ship that carried him into one of the most picturesque ca- 
reers that ever befell a labor leader. 

Parks was an expert rigger, which suggests that he probably 
had been a sailor, but I know nothing of his antecedents. In 
1899, the building trades in New York were loosely union- 
ized. The bricklayers were strongest, but even they were not 
aggressive. Such fight as the men showed was in behalf of a 
principle, the right of collective bargaining. Their leaders 
were talkers rather than doers, labor pedants eloquent of 
economic theories of unearned increments and wages. The 
employers still were top dog and, in general, intolerant and 
more or less contemptuous. ; 

Sam was burdened with no theories; he was a doer, fight- 
ing as much for the love of fighting and of power as for any- 
thing. First rallying about him his devil-may-care iron setters, 
he seized the loose and flabby Building Trades Association and 
forged it into the powerful, militant organization it has re- 
mained ever since. A born guerilla, he fought the employers, 
not frontally, but by sudden forays. He introduced into the 
sympathetic strike sniping and like Fabian tactics, whereby a 
strike was called on one job at a time, permitting the unions to 
support the strikers easily out of the earnings of the men still 
at work. 


He rose finally to be head of the whole Building Trades 


Diagrammatic picture showing the underpinning of | Looking downan open caisson—for the Book Building, 
the National City Bank, New York, to permit the Detroit, Mich. Open caissons were sunk to a depth 
construction of the William Street subway. of 130 feet. 


Pretesting a 1200-ton footing. This spread footing in a 26-story building, designed to carry 
1200 tons, settled more than six inches. To prevent further settlement it was pretested. 
(See footnote on following page.) 


Courtesy of Spencer, White & Prentis, Inc. 


86 SKYSCRAPERS 


Council, and, reckless in this power, precipitated a great gen- 
eral action, the seven months’ strike of 1903, which ruined 
many builders and, indirectly, carried Parks down with them. 
He had been doing a brisk private business in selling strike 
immunity to employers, and he was convicted of extortion and 
sent to Sing Sing, where he died of tuberculosis. Publicly, labor 
proclaimed Parks a victim of a capitalist conspiracy. Privately, 
I think, it admitted his sin, but forgave him his personal ex- 
ploitation for what he had won for it, for labor held and ex- 
panded upon the gains that his militancy had brought it. 


Two seventy-two inch plate girders were rivetted to the column and beneath these 
were placed four pairs of 15” I beams. Twenty one-hundred ton hydraulic jacks were 
set between these grillage beams and the footing and cross connected to an electrically 
operated hydraulic accumulator and pump, and also to hand-operated pumps. By 
means of these, a pressure of eighteen hundred tons was exerted on the footing, de- 
pressing it several inches and compressing the ground beneath it. Pressure was main- 
tained constantly on the jacks until forty-eight hours had elapsed without further set- 
tlement of the footing. The column was then wedged against the footing. — 


Courtesy of Starrett & VanVleck, Architects. 


Eight West aoth Street. New York. Probably the first to use the pointed roof to enclose 
elevator machinery, tanks, etc., an accepted criterion of the best solution of the “inside- 
lot” problem. (See text, page 101.) 


CHAPTER VII 
CONTRACT RELATIONS 


SkyscraPERs are built under two forms of contract, general 
and divided. The latter is a survival of simpler times when 
simpler buildings were parcelled out to independent sub-con- 
tractors, and the co-ordination left to the architect or engineer, 
even the owner sometimes assuming the builder’s rdle. 

The general contract is the usual form used on large met- 
ropolitan structures, and the one which best illustrates the 
work of a modern building organization. Under it an owner 
turns over the plans and specifications for a building to a 
single agency, and that agency binds itself to deliver within a 
time limit a completed structure ready for the tenants to move 
in. The contractor finances the work from month to month, 
the owner, however, paying the contractor a proportion of the 
actual outlay as the work progresses. The contractor buys and 
assembles materials, lets the sub-contracts himself, may him- 
self perform certain of them, such as foundations, masonry, 
structural steel, and carpentry, supervises and administers the 
whole, and protects the owner against all contingencies, ex- 
cept the contingency of the owner changing his mind. 

This can be more clearly explained by quoting from a pa- 
per recently read by Ward P. Christie before the American 
Society of Civil Engineers. 

“Contrary to popular conception,’ Mr. Christie said, “‘the 
principal function of the general contractor is not to erect steel, 
brick or concrete, but to provide a skilful, centralized man- 
agement for co-ordinating the various trades, timing their in- 
stallations and synchronizing their work according to a pre- 
determined plan, a highly specialized function the success of 
which depends on the personal skill and direction of capable 
executives. 

87 


88 SKYSCRAPERS 


“The mere broker cannot do this successfully. If one branch 
of the work falls down, he cannot perform it himself, but 
must seek a new agency which, at best, means serious delay. 
In some instances engineers and architects have successfully 
performed this management function, although they have 
done so, not by reason of their technical skill and training, but 
in spite of it. They were good construction executives, as well 
as technicians, with an understanding of business manage- 
ment—a combination rarely found either in business or the 
professions. Ordinarily the professional engineer’s or archi- 
tect’s management of construction may reasonably be expected 
to succeed about as often as the contractor’s execution of en- 
gineering or architectural design.” 

Unless the owner, architect, or engineer happens to be such 
an unlikely combination, the attempt to build a large structure 
on a divided contract is equivalent to trying to operate an 
army without a staff. Building is unlike any other form of in- 
dustry, in that, like an army, it is a field operation, never un- 
der a roof, with many long and exposed lines of communi- 
cation, and made up of a complexity of specialized units. It is 
a staff operation, a problem in logistics, as soldiers say—the 
getting up of supplies, the performance of a task and the re- 
moval of the waste. 

Sub-contractors on a large metropolitan structure, operating 
each at his own convenience, bring about chaos. The work of 
each interlocks with that of the other; the thing cannot be 
done except in the proper order, and where no order is en- 
forced, confusion and chaos ensue. Some jobs have been mud- 
dled through in this fashion, but the cost in time and money 
has been enormous, as some bankrupt owners can testify. For 
example, conduits must be placed when forms and structural 
parts are ready to receive them, not when the electrician feels 
like doing it. The heating plant is essential to the drying of 
the building where thousands of tons of water have played 


CONTRACT RELATIONS 89 


their useful part in the masonry of every sort, but which must 
be evaporated before the final finishing is done and, of course, 
_ before the building can be comfortably occupied. Sidewalk 
beams cannot be set until certain special ventilating equip- 
ment is in place. Proper safety measures are impossible under 
divided responsibility. The sub-contractors, put to extra time 
and expense by interference and the injury of workmen, can 
recover from the owner where no financially responsible 
agency such as the general contractor stands between him and 
them. 

Under a general contract, if either time or cost exceeds the 
contract figure, the contractor bears the loss. Under a divided 
contract, where the architect oversees the whole, he is paid 
for no such responsibility and accepts none, and the loss is the 
owner’s. The exception to the above 1s that many builders will 
not bid competitively for an operation nor take it at a pre- 
arranged price, believing that such bidding brings their inter- 
est and that of the owner into direct conflict. Instead, they 
take a contract at cost plus a management fee. Under the gu- 
dance of a skilful builder, co-operating with an intelligent 
architect, this system reaps rich reward to the owner in econo- 
mies impossible under any other plan. 

There is much misunderstanding as to just wherein econo- 
mies and profits of the building industry lie. The feeling in 
the public mind that the builder makes inordinate profits by 
the shrewdness with which he conducts the building opera- 
tion at the site is erroneous. The large economies of construc- 
tion are made when the plans are being drawn, and the well- 
‘nformed owner who avails himself of the valuable advice that 
may be obtained from the co-operation of an intelligent archi- 
tect and skilful builder is really the one who profits in build- 
ing operations. Such profits are not as spectacular as those 
which seem to come from an owner’s being able to contract 


with the builder for the fulfillment of his finished plans and 


90 SKYSCRAPERS 


specifications at a price somewhat less than he had anticipated. 
He may chuckle with glee to think that he has bought his 
building for fifty or even a hundred thousand dollars less than 
he expected it would cost; but bound up in that set of plans 
and specifications, in all probability, is another hundred thou- 
sand dollars of losses that the owner must bear, due to the 
rigidity of his scheme and his failure to consult a capable 
builder while those plans were being drawn. If this latter 
course had been followed, the savings apparent in his competi- 
tive bidding, if they were legitimate, would automatically 
have come to him, and with this would have come the other 
economies that the builder could have introduced—now for- 
ever lost. This process has nothing spectacular about it, for 
when the owner, builder, and architect have, through co- 
operation and study, agreed upon all of the details of construc- 
tion and these have been incorporated in the plans, the budget 
is pretty nearly the minimum. The owner may derive some 
further satisfaction by some very close buying on final clos- 
ings of sub-contracts, and will surely reap the benefits that 
further conferences will bring as the operation proceeds, but 
these are small economies; the big economies were made be- 
fore the owner’s fortune was jeopardized. 

Morton C. Tuttle, of Boston, one of the best-posted build- 
ers in the country, writing in the Architectural Forum, says: 


If cost is a vital concern, and if it must be controlled, then, obviously, 
someone fully competent in cost matters should be constantly in con- 
tact with every step in the development of any design whose fulfillment 
in structural form involves cost. . . . And the more the nature of the 
design is such as to appeal primarily to the designer’s creative imagina- 
tion, just so much the more are considerations of ‘cost likely to be over- 


looked. ... 


Speaking of estimates, he says: 


Such an anlayzed estimate makes it possible for the owner to weigh 
the importance of each feature in terms of its cost, and to retain this 


—— 


CONTRACT RELATIONS 9] 


feature or to discard that, according to his judgment as to its relative 
dispensability. The plan thus generally outlined, estimated, and finally 
approved serves to establish a budget by which the detailed develop- 
ment of the design can be controlled. . . . Furthermore, in. the end, a 
building plan developed in conformity with a preliminary budget, for 
whose application the cost expert is accountable, is pretty certain to 
present no necessity for those hasty and disfiguring last-minute modi- 
fications and eliminations which harrow the souls of all such designers 
as take worthy pride in their work... . 


And further on, alluding to the co-operation of builder and 
architect: 


Under such circumstances it should be understood that he is to work 
with the architect,—concerning himself, first, with matters of cost, as 
they develop in the design proper; next, with purchasing; and lastly, 
with the conduct of construction. Thus engaged, the contractor will 
often be found to serve as a reliable cost expert, and in any event as so 
efficient a supervisor of costs that through his agency the owner may 
from first to last feel confident of controlling his expenditures. So long 
as the general contractor is not subjected to the pressure of competi- 
tion, he can work in this way; but, as soon as competition is forced 
upon him, his interest shifts, and such knowledge as he possesses is 
reserved for his own protection, not for that of his employer... . 


If we must have a competitive contract, the logic must be 


faced; he says: 


It may, of course, be argued at this point that the architect’s speci- 
fications, by which the contractor and sub-contractor alike are bound, 
will stipulate the exact character of the work to be performed and the 
quality to be achieved; and that careful inspection should suffice to in- 
sure adequate fulfillment of these specifications. Any one possessing a 
sense of humor might delight in following this optimistic theory in 
its application to a surgical operation, to the painting of a portrait, the 
composing of a piece of music, or even to the humble yet subtly exact- 
ing process of making an apple pie. In his inner consciousness, every 
intelligent person is aware that the one chance of obtaining good work 
is to entrust a task to the competent. Inspection offers no substitute for 


honesty and ability. 


There is a general misconception in the public mind that 
builders grow fat on extras and changes. The very reverse 1s 


92 SKYSCRAPERS 


true. Extras and changes are the bane of the building indus- 
try, and a large part of the wear and tear of building arises out 
of the failure on the part of the owner to understand the build- 
er’s problem. He has accomplished so much in the way of 
wonders, it seems incredible to the owner that he cannot ever-~ 
lastingly work miracles. To stop a gang of high-priced work? 
men when they are about to undertake a task in order to 
change some small and seemingly insignificant part of that 
task, and then judge the apparently large expense by the in- 
significant item changed, is where misunderstandings start. 
The owner is told that it will cost $200 to move a doorway, 
and he immediately protests that he is moving it only six 
inches, seeming to imply that a $200 price ought to entitle 
him to move it at least several feet. In his over-wrought state 
of mind, it is almost impossible to explain to him that it would 
be cheaper to move it a dozen feet and get away from a lot 
of electrical conduits, plumbing pipes and other facilities, than 
the mere six inches that he is now requiring. Such a partition 
change has been known to involve all of the following trades: 
the mason, the plasterer, the sheet metal worker, the plumber, 
the tile setter, the marble worker, the ornamental iron work- 
er, the carpenter, and the painter. Figure the skilled mechan- 
ics involved in this, each one waiting on another for this six- 
inch shift in the location, and the reader can see why changes 
cost so much. 

Eighty per cent of the cost of the usual skyscraper lies in 
what is called the buy-out—the sub-contracts such as steel, ele- 
vators, plumbing, electrical, heating, ventilating, plastering, 
painting and decorating, etc. Another ten per cent goes for 
commodity materials such as sand, cement, brick and similar 
items. Assuming the plans and specifications to be very ac- 
curate and complete, among any group of four or five com- 
petent builders, the bids on this ninety per cent of the work 
will be nearly identical, unless some of them gamble on their 


CONTRACT RELATIONS 93 


profit by selling short on futures. The remaining ten per cent 
of the building cost is the builder’s direct payroll, which usu- 
_ally includes the foundations, masonry, bricklaying, carpen- 
try, etc. He might perform this fraction carelessly and make it 
cost a little more, or he might perform it so skilfully as to 
cut the cost of this payroll work as much as ten per cent. The 
difference either way would be only one per cent of the whole 
cost. The price of a structure having been estimated scientifi- 
cally, the owner’s interest should be not how cheaply, but 
how well his agents build for him. With a skilful builder, an 
owner may feel confident that the economies of this direct 
work will be obtained—that goes without saying. But the tre- 
mendous advantage an owner gets comes from the intimate 
knowledge the builder furnishes as to methods, markets, pur- 
chase, availability and delivery, for under this plan the greatest 
elasticity of decision is available, and moreover, the skilful 
builder is working for the owner, not for himself. The public 
seems slow to realize that builders are not vendors of build- 
ings, but are expert managers and co-ordinators, as Mr. 
Christie has said. 

There are three major divisions to the work. The first is 
in the architect’s office, where the owner has outlined his 
requirements. These requirements are technically known as 
the program. It takes from three to six months to prepare 
a complete set of architectural drawings, and even these must 
be supplemented and amplified as the work of construction 
proceeds. Preliminary sketches will be made by a competent 
architect within two or three weeks, but they are not sufh- 
cient basis for a fixed-price contract, and can only serve to de- 
fine the general scope of the work. The owner who demands 
competitive bidding and a fixed-price contract must await the 
completion of final plans and specifications if he would avoid 
the peril of an incomplete and inferior structure due to the 
caveat emptor of his bargain. 


94 SKYSCRAPERS 


The second stage is the business and managerial phase, the 
buy-out. For six weeks or more the builder’s office is attended 
by sub-contractors consulting the plans and preparing their 
bids. These items may cost either more or less than estimated, 
but always they are the major expense of building. 

In the third stage, the work is marshalled in lockstep and 
performance is the test, with the wrecker leading the proces- 
sion of sub-contractors. Here the skill and generalship of the 
builder are shown. A thousand and one details are constantly 
before him. The sub-contracts, drawn with due regard to the 
rights of the owner and sub-contractor, nevertheless need ad- 
ministration. Certain work cannot start until certain other 
work has been completed. Conflicts of space and order of 
precedence are constantly under adjustment. The most ob- 
vious solution is not always the best, and frequently the job 
moves forward or lags through the mere attitude of the ad- 
ministration toward the “subs.” The builder’s experience and 
standing give force to his orders and decisions; his knowledge 
of the business and reputation for fair administration of his 
own work and that of the sub-contractors furnish the leader- 
ship and driving force that make for swift and sure progress. 
The capable builder is responsible for the whole progress of 
the work, and he stands between the sub-contractors and the 
sometimes capricious petulance of both the owner and the 
architect. 


CHAPTER VIII 
IMPORTANCE OF DESIGN 


THERE are two ways of subordinating income to design in 
business building. The first is confined largely to banks. Not 
infrequently banks erect low classical structures solely for their 
own use on very valuable corners. Or they do the equivalent— 
erect office buildings, but reserve the lower floors and con- 
vert this expensive space into high-vaulted banking chambers. 
Banking can be done under a ten-foot ceiling as efficiently 
as beneath a sixty-foot ceiling, but in either case the banks 
have known what they were about. The public demands both 
an impressive facade and a marble interior of an institution 
where it deposits its money. 

The second method carries a building to uneconomic height 
and perhaps spectacular elaboration as well. This may be a 
Woolworth Tower in New York or it may be, for example, a 
twelve-story office-building in a town where neither land 
values nor the demand for office space justifies such expense. 
In all cases, the motive is the same—prestige. Curiously, 
small-town skyscrapers frequently justify themselves economi- 
cally, their prestige together with their more modern accommo- 
dations emptying older buildings of their tenants. 

My argument is that the skyscraper is an intrinsically beau- 
tiful form. There have been beautiful and hideous skyscrapers 
and many that lie between, and the fault and the merit alike 
have been the architects’, with rare exceptions. If a “prestige” 
building fails of beauty, the fault obviously is that of the archi- 
tect, for the men who pay the bills are lavishly generous of 
confidence and money. 

Striking beauty may be impossible to a purely commercial 
building; but if such a structure lacks poise and dignity, the 

95 


96 ? SKYSCRAPERS 


fault again is that of the architect. He may be held by the 
owner to a stark simplicity of outline; but if the cost limita- 
tions can be met at all, they can be met with self-respect. The 
difference between grace and ugliness in a severely plain form 
is one only of a few thousand dollars, the architect's ability 
and a few lines in the right place. If an occasional owner 
should hold out for unrelieved common brick as a facing for 
his skyscraper, or insist on the exterior of a two-story Main 
Street shop for a thirty-story structure, a self-respecting archi- 
tect can throw up his commission. 

Amateur critics of skyscraper architecture have a mental 
picture of an owner holding the struggling architect’s nose to 
a grindstone on which is carved an emblematic dollar mark. 
The normal owner builds for profits and he is unlikely to be 
a competent judge of design, outward or inward; but the true 
picture of his meeting with the architect usually runs like this: 

The owner draws up his chair and his first words are: “I 
want something adequate and plain; no gingerbread, no fuss 
and feathers, mind you.” It lies in his mind that excessive ex- 
pense in building takes the form of visual ornamentation. It 
almost never does. A skyscraper is like a great passenger ship 
—the difference between a crack express liner and a secondary 
steamer is not one of hull and funnels, but of internal ma- 
chinery and facilities. 

The owner of a new skyscraper makes his choice between 
low and high initial expense when he comes to decide on ele- 
vators, plumbing, ventilating and heating equipment, internal 
facilities and finish. They may be good or bad, costly or 
cheap. When this point is reached he has undergone a psy- 
chological change. The visual appeal is so strongly ingrained 
in human nature that, having discovered by now that it is a 
relatively minor item in costs, the owner is willing to accept 
any amount of exterior design the architect wishes, may even 
urge him to more elaboration; but he has grown niggardly 


IMPORTANCE OF DESIGN 97 


about pumps, valves, copper, elevators, and the like. The real 
optional expense 1s hidden inside the building and is neither 
spectacular nor particularly beautiful. These things do not 
stir his pride and imagination, and from a no-nonsense busi- 
ness man he has become a romantic, concerned with non- 
essentials. 

It was said a paragraph back that excessive expense almost 
never takes the form of ornamentation. The word “‘almost”’ is in 
recollection of one of the world’s most magnificent banking 
rooms, which began with the stern intention of being as plain 
as a pipe stem. This bank illustrates not only an exception to 
the rule but the shift in view-point of an owner. The bank 
had grown wealthy and powerful over many years in an off- 
corner of New York. A new financial district springing up, 
the directors decided to shift the main banking offices to this 
district. Architects were called in and commissioned to de- 
sign a building. 

“We are plain people down here,” the directors said, “and 
moving up-town will not change our natures. We want a sim- 
ple, honest office-building that will earn its keep, and on the 
main floor we want as simple a banking room as you can de- 
sign.” 

“Right,” agreed the architects, an able, imaginative and a 
far from simple firm. “In order to get the utmost of simplicity 
we will agree on the dimensions of the banking room and 
leave it just four brick walls for the present.” The directors 
applauded this unexpected sanity, Thereupon, step by step, 
the architects began to educate the board in the perfections of 
interior design. As the directors succumbed to the beauties of 
one suggestion, the designers pressed another. After six 
months the board had agreed to one of the most lavish rooms 
ever seen. It cost very close to $1,000,000, and by its splen- 
dors forced a redesigning of the public entrances, elevators 
and other details of the office-building to bring it more into 


98 SKYSCRAPERS 


keeping with such a child. The final result was a monument 
of which the directors are inordinately proud. 

An individual owner naturally could seldom support such 
magnificence, however he might be attracted to it; but inas- 
much as a good architect, by his arrangement of elevators and 
corridors, can get as much as twenty per cent more return out 
of a given building than can a poor architect, owner and archi- 
tect usually can meet on the common ground of good econo- 
mies and agree on design. 

Too much, not too little, ornament was the prevalent of- 
fense of the skyscraper from its birth down to the war. Feel- 
ing their way about in this new architectural form, designers 
took their esthetic yearnings out in cheap and easy over-elabo- 
ration, thereby robbing the structures of their two inherent ar- 
tistic integrities—simplicity and power. 

Ornamentation always is a lesser and frequently a ques- 
tionable form of beauty. It is ever apt to bear no relation to 
the building, or to be overdone, as a woman with too much 
of the wrong kind of jewelry. Only great architects may be 
trusted with it. 

We have to thank neither architect nor owner, but labor, 
for a better day. It was economic necessity that removed the 
lace and embroidery from these athletic figures. Ornamenta- 
tion still is cheap, but labor has become expensive. When 
both were cheap and the skyscraper was new, heavily chiselled 
festoons of granite and marble garlands of fruit and flowers 
hung over the windows and doorways of our business build- 
ings. Friezes and cornices invited festoons and brackets. Car- 
touches were epidemic after 1900, and any structure of pre- 
tensions to elegance dangled with festoons of abundance and 
cornucopias spilling out a ponderous plenty wherever a vacant 
surface offered. Inside, the allegorical horn of plenty was pur- 
sued with cast-iron pomegranates, figs and garlands almost in 
reach of the plucker, but forbidding and ominous in their 


IMPORTANCE OF DESIGN 99 


metallic solidity. Ceilings were coffered and subcoffered with 
’ massive conventional floral motifs looking down between 
more ponderous plaster beams, themselves tortured with end- 
less running ornaments, and the whole topped off with gold 
leaf—an architecture that has come to be known as Early 
Pullman Car. | 

Such florid elegance sounds expensive, but was not so, rela- 
tive to the total cost of the building. If, however, carved 
granites and marbles were prohibitive, there was terra-cotta. 
An ancient building material, terra-cotta was restricted to 
appliqué ornament before the skyscraper, because it crushes 
under considerable weights. The curtain wall of the sky- 
scraper, supported at each floor by the steel skeleton, made it 
structurally feasible. It came into use immediately, and in 
Chicago in 1894 the Reliance Building employed it exclu- 
sively in the curtain walls for the first time. Lighter than 
stone or brick, highly fire resistant and sturdy if not subjected 
to heavy burdens, it also is very cheap and capable of infinite 
ornamentation, coloration and imitation of more expensive 
materials. Offered any amount of flamboyance at a price 
cheaper than simplicity, architects and owners were tempted 
often beyond their powers. 

Here labor stepped upon the scene, all innocent of artistic 
intentions, and enforced a classic moderation. Such gewgaws 
were expensive in labor if not in material, and the pruning 
hook began to trim them ruthlessly from the tree of architec- 
ture. 


CHAPTER IX 


DESIGN AFFECTED BY ZONING LAWS 


Up to now, like the owner, we have been looking at the 
skyscraper from the street. There are other angles of vision— 
from a distance, from other buildings, from the air. From 
any of them, the commercial high building was caught at an 
embarrassing disadvantage. By economic necessity, ordinary 
owners were forced to crowd their structures close to the limits 
of legal permission. No wasted space meant a cube rising un- 
broken from sidewalk to a flat roof. However graceful a facade 
the designer might contrive to woo the eye from the street, 
the mass effect of such forms was monotonous. 

But the single worst crudity of the skyscraper was this flat 
roof crowned with one of the world’s most unlovely sights—- 
a naked water-tank set on stilts. The owner did not see his 
roof, neither did his tenants; therefore it was one with alleys 
and back yards. Anyway, water-tanks always had been set 
on roofs since buildings had running water. Then, as the 
electric elevator began to displace the hydraulic types, a fur- 
ther eruption occurred on the roof—a penthouse to shelter the 
motors which, in the better installations, are set at the top of 
the shafts. These early penthouses had the grace of a wood- 
shed. The first step toward reform on the roof was to com- 
bine water-tank and motors in a penthouse, and so soften the 
lines of the latter and blend it a little into the building. 

Probably we are justified in giving the credit to Goldwin 
Starrett, now dead, for the true answer to water-tanks, pent- 
houses, chimneys, steam vents, exposed pipes and all roof ex- 
crescences in the 8 West 4oth Street building, New York, 

100 


DESIGN AFFECTED BY ZONING LAWS 101 


where he hid them all in a symmetrical, peaked roof. There 
_ had been occasional peaked roofs in the high buildings long 
before that, but purely ornamentally intended. Incidentally, 
this building is generally regarded in the profession as the best 
solution ever made of the trying problem of an interior lot. 

The New York zoning law, passed in 1916, was practically, 
not zsthetically, intended. Depending upon the width of the 
abutting streets, the law requires that a building be stepped 
back at certain heights. These restrictions apply to three- 
quarters of the ground area of any new building. On the re- 
maining quarter, a tower may be carried to any altitude the 
owner may desire. The law was intended to protect the rights 
of lesser buildings and to permit the sunlight to reach the 
streets a greater part of the day. Its principal, though purely 
collateral, effect, however, was to give to architectural design 
in high buildings the greatest impetus it ever has known, and 
to produce a new and beautiful pyramidal sky-line. 

No longer can a florist’s box stood on end be erected in 
New York except to very limited heights. Speculators and 
other purely commercial builders and lesser architects had 
form thrust upon them by law. Abler architects were not un- 
prepared for such an opportunity and rose to it splendidly. 
The 27 West 43d Street building in 1917-18 first illustrated 
the setback. This New York-born architecture is an adapta- 
tion of no other; it is our own, expressing ourselves. It is the 
sounder for having a reasoned motive rather than individual 
fancy behind it. Beauty of line and form, rather than beauty 
of ornamentation, distinguishes it. With only ten years’ his- 
tory behind it, the setback is a thing of grace and sweep. 
There is no reason to suppose that it is a finished form; towers 
of unimagined beauty should rise in the 1930's, and that is 
far enough to carry any prophecy in these eventful years. 

We borrowed the zoning law from Europe, where long 
ago it became customary to limit any commercial building to 


102 SKYSCRAPERS 


a height not exceeding the width of the abutting street, mea- 
sured from building-line to building-line; and as the purpose 
was esthetic, the limitation was absolute. The setback is an 
American compromise. It is in effect, with local variations, in 
more than half the American cities of 25,000 population or 
more. 

Washington is our only city, to my knowledge, that fol- 
lows the European practice of absolute limitation. Boston did 
so until 1928, when it adopted a zoning plan similar to New 
York’s. Meanwhile it is a city of one tall building—the cam- 
panile-like Custom House, which towers over it as the Wash- 
ington Monument dominates the national capital. About twen- 
ty years ago, the builders of the Westminster Hotel in Boston 
contested the then newly passed ordinance and carried their 
structure above the hundred foot limitation. The city sued and 
won, and the top floor actually was sliced away after it had 
been built. The hotel stands to-day without a cornice and 
with the roof-line running through the heads of the win- 
dows of what was next to the top floor. 

The intrinsic beauty of the setback form has carried it to 
cities that put no limitations on building dimensions. The new 
Philadelphia Electric Building not only is stepped from choice 
rather than necessity, but multicolored flood lights make the 


setback tower a rainbow by night—a unique and striking ex- . 


periment that is likely to be adopted elsewhere. 

The workings of the New York zoning law are so complex 
that a new profession—that of consulting expert in zoning— 
has arisen there. These experts advise and interpret between 
the architect and builder, and the Building Department in the 
fashion of lawyers. As builders, it has led us to make isometric 
outline drawings of the legal possibilities of any given build- 
ing site. We carry these drawings to the final setback and in- 
dicate the unlimited tower possible on one-quarter of the area. 
The owner then may see what form his structure would be 


* = ede AP 


1 
i 


S  eerntgnens: 


& aad Ee. to co 


From a photograph by Chicago Aerial Survey Co. and Starrett Building Co. 


One of the devices an architect uses to present his case. Upper picture is an airplane view of a section of 
Chicago; lower picture is the same with two large buildings, centre foreground, drawn in, this giving a com- 
plete idea not only of how the new improvements will look, but how they will fit into their surroundings. 


104 SKYSCRAPERS 


likely to take at any given height and he does not mistake 
setback necessities for design. 

The assault on the skyscraper in recent years has been on 
practical rather than esthetic grounds. Led by Henry H. Cur- 
ran, a former president of the Borough of Manhattan, its 
enemies charge it with creating outrageous traffic congestion, 
unsettling land values and putting a disproportionate burden 
on the municipality for fire protection, water supply and 
sewage disposal. According to Mr. Curran, the skyscraper 
is the villain of traffic congestion. According to Harvey Wiley 
Corbett, a distinguished architect, it is almost wholly innocent. 
Both are wrong, in my judgment. Certainly, a building hous- 
ing 10,000 workers aggravates the traffic problem for blocks 
around. But the high building is only one factor in a condi- 
tion practically inescapable in modern urban life. The motor 
car is a worse offender than the skyscraper, as is demonstrated 
every day in such cities of relatively low sky-line as Los An- 
geles. As well padlock Detroit. London and Paris both have 
rigidly limited sky-lines and relatively fewer motor cars, yet 
their trafic problem is similar. 

We tolerate trafic tangles because we cannot help our- 
selves. Better traffic congestion than no traffic. The basic difh- 
culty goes even beyond the fact that our streets were designed 
for slow-paced, moderate, horse-drawn traffic. We forget that 
pedestrians died daily under horses’ hoofs in the traffic of the 
80’s; that horse cars were slow, cold, smelly, infrequent and 
abominably crowded in the rush hours; that workers toiled up 
as many as six floors to their desks; that medieval and ancient 
cities were swarming warrens. In other words, cities always 
have been crowded and uncomfortable. 

Our own peculiar dilemma arises from the fact that we 
were born into a simple world, have been catapulted into a 
highly complex one and have not yet adjusted ourselves to 
such a mighty revolution. In the last century man began, with 


es 


DESIGN AFFECTED BY ZONING LAWS 105 


an ingenuity he was not suspected of possessing, to devise ma- 
-chinery to lighten labor, annihilate distance, increase physical 
comfort and wealth. Every such invention tended to make 
the city a more advantageous, more comfortable, more inter- 
esting place in which to live and do business. But as fast as the 
city improved, fresh hordes poured in from town and coun- 
try to take advantage of these social-mechanical benefits, there- 
by largely cancelling the gain. The process goes on undimin- 
ished. 

Modern life and industry are organized on a basis of cen- 
tralization. Machinery, of which the skyscraper is part, made 
this centralization possible, and New York and similar cities 
are its consequences, essential to its scheme. Every hour of the 
day and night New Yorkers and other city dwellers are out- 
raged by physical discomforts which they might escape by 
moving afield. They remain, and instead, new population 
flocks in from less congested areas to share and add to these 
discomforts, testifying that the city offers more to the aver- 
age family than it demands of them. Either we must accept 
the city pretty much as it is for the present or we must de- 
centralize modern life, return to 1850—which is prepos- 
terous. Individuals here and there may revert to the simple 
life, the commuter may compromise with it, but society can- 
not. 

For twenty years or more men have been drawing dream 
pictures of a many-decked city, one in which traffic would be 
segregated by kind and speed on various levels. The inspira- 
tion obviously was the existing tube, subway, surface and ele- 
vated divisions of rail traffic. These visions carried such an ar- 
rangement much farther to many-tiered streets and cross 
walks providing for motor and foot traffic. It still is a dream, 
and an impractical one in the light of this day’s sun; but it 
is the best, almost the only vision of a traffic solution we have 
imagined to date, and it may be that we are seeing its begin- 


106 SKYSCRAPERS 


nings in the New York Central Building, recently constructed. 

Twenty-five years ago, while steam trains still operated into 
the old Grand Central Station through the original inade- 
quate tunnel, two passenger trains collided in the tunnel with 
heavy loss of life. The disaster brought a smouldering quarrel 
between the city and the New York Central Railroad to a 
crisis, and resulted in an agreement whereby the road was to 
acquire large areas of valuable contiguous property, replace 
the narrow tunnel with a wide cut, electrify and build the 
present great terminal. 

The expense of acquisition and construction was so great 
as to threaten the financial stability of that very prosperous 
railroad, and in casting about for relief, the novel plan of sell- 
ing air rights to permit the building of commercial structures 
over the tracks in Park Avenue was conceived—oddly, by a 
firm of St. Paul, Minnesota, architects, Reed & Stem. The chief 
engineer of the railroad had come from St. Paul and called 
them in to advise him. 

Under the skilful direction of the late Ira A. Place, gen- 
eral counsel for the terminal development, the plan was put 
into successful operation. Beginning with the Biltmore, a pro- 
cession of great hotels, apartments, clubs and office buildings 
rose over the maze of two-level tracks leading into the ter- 
minal, and they return a revenue in air rights more than sufh- 
cient to pay the interest and sinking fund of the bonded in- 
debtedness of the terminal. 

The value of these air rights, moreover, appreciated sharply 


between the first and the last building erected. The Biltmore ' 


Hotel, pioneer of the development, pays only $100,000 a year 
to the terminal; the later Park Lane Apartments, $130,000; 
the Commodore Hotel, $175,000; and the Roosevelt Hotel, 
erected a few years later, $285,000. 

All these buildings are unique in that they have no ground 
rights, existing by virtue of their leases to the air above the 


DESIGN AFFECTED BY ZONING LAWS 107 


street level. Patently, such superimposed structures have no 
basements; they take their steam heat from the New York 
Central’s power house, located at one end of the terminal im- 
provement—which heat, by the way, is purely by-product, in- 
asmuch as the power plant 1s a necessity to generate electricity 
for the terminal. 

The track space was blasted out of the solid rock of Man- 
hattan—a stupendous undertaking in itself—and as the tracks 
come in on two levels, it will be seen that the upper must run in 
part on a floor-like structure corresponding to the basement of 
the skyscrapers above. Engineers recognized that the vibra- 
tion of the heavy trains would necessitate a special foundation 
for the superimposed buildings. Accordingly, the building 
foundations reach down through the entirely separate struc- 
ture on which the tracks run, a sort of cage within a cage, 
with no points of contact, every column footing of each struc- 
ture insulated from the others by ingenious construction which 
reduces to a minimum the transmission of the jar and impact 
of the trains to the footings of the skyscrapers. 

A pedestrian on the sidewalk in the Grand Central zone 
may notice a curious separation of the base of the buildings 
from the walk. There seems to be and in fact is a slot of about 
one inch. If the pedestrian carries a cane he may confirm his 
eyes by thrusting the cane to its full length into the slot and 
be persuaded that the building is resting on air. He is simply 
observing the separated construction. The sidewalk and street 
rest on the railroad structure, the building on a structure of its 
own, running down through the former but unattached to it. 

The New York Central’s own building, recently com- 
pleted, occupies the last available parcel of air-rights property 
in the development and brings to completion the plan so 
brilliantly imagined by these St. Paul architects. In this build- 
ing vehicular traffic is carried through a great building above 
grade for the first time in history. 


108 SYKSCRAPERS 


Park Avenue, one of the main arteries of Manhattan, is 
blocked between Forty-second and Forty-fifth streets by the 
terminal, and between Forty-fifth and Forty-sixth streets by 
this new office-building. Through-traffic northbound rises 
on a viaduct at Fortieth street, crosses over Forty-first and 
Forty-second streets, carries around the Grand Central Sta- 
tion on an upper-level drive, overpasses Forty-fifth street, en- 
ters the New York Central Building at the level of the second 
floor, curves and drops through it and emerges at grade at 
Forty-sixth street. Southbound traffic reverses this order. This 
great skyscraper stands at what appears to be the end of Man- 
hattan’s widest avenue, pouring a continuous stream of motor 
cars out of one portal and drawing them in at another. The 
nearest parallel that New York can show is the Municipal 
Building, through which Chambers Street passes, but at grade. 

Chicago’s new Union Station is being developed similarly 
as to air rights. The Chicago station is not electrified, and a 
great smoke chamber underneath the Daily News Building 
and the Plaza, the first structures to utilize these air rights, 
collects the fumes and powerful fans carry them out over the 
roof. The new Union Terminal in Cleveland has the same 


general characteristic of superimposed skyscrapers with special © 


problems of vibration and smoke. On Broad Street in Phila- 
delphia the new thirty-seven-acre Reading Terminal ware- 
house building will straddle the Reading tracks, as the Elver- 


son skyscraper, across the street, already does. The dream ~ 


seems to take form. 


nh dente sea 


CHAPTER X 
TYPES OF BUILDERS 


Tue large modern city has created a new phenomenon— 
the speculative builder. All cities have them, but only in New 
York and perhaps in Chicago do they deal regularly in sky- 
scrapers. Speculative building is not the highest type of con- 
struction, neither is it all its name may insinuate. Its followers 
are opportunists, but their buildings are sound in structure. 
The vigilant Building Departments see to that. For that mat- 
ter, any steel-frame building undergoes much greater strains 
during construction than it ever will be put to in operation, 
and the speculative builder has no thought of trying to erect 
an unsafe structure anyway. What he may do to a greater or 
lesser extent is to slight it in facilities. 

These skimpings insure two things—a high return on the 
investment and an excessive maintenance charge. The specu- 
lator is not interested in the latter. The demand for space is 
such in New York that he expects to rent the building quick- 
ly; then, with an assured rental roll, he can refinance or sell 
- to an investor and get from under. The type of investor who 
demands this abnormally high return on his money is either 
too ignorant to distinguish between a shoddily and a soundly 
finished structure, or, like the speculator, he is gambling with 
his eyes open. 

If pressed, the speculator may defend himself with some 
plausibility. ““What’s the matter with it?” he will demand. 
“It passes the building laws, doesn’t it? The buyer will make 
money on it, won't he? As for elevators and such, they area 

109 


146 SKYSCRAPERS 


good deal like automobiles—obsolete in a few years. In twen- 
ty years the normal increase in the land value will have more 
than justified a complete refitting or even tearing it down to 
build higher. Why build for eternity when all experience in- 
dicates that twenty years or so is the measure of an ordinary 
building’s usefulness in New York? What is that but waste?” 

Or a speculative builder may turn a profit without turning 
a spadeful of earth. For example, he assembles a building site, 
putting up enough option money to hold the lots for a year, or 
he controls them on a contract of sale with a deposit of earnest 
money. Now he hires an architect to draw him an imposing 
picture of a skyscraper; if it is several stories higher than the 
Woolworth Tower, so much the better. This he sends to the 
newspapers with a statement that work will start next Thurs- 
day. The newspapers like pictures of high buildings, real or 
imagined, because we readers have a weakness for them. 

The next morning a dozen brokers are waiting in the pro- 
moter’s office to ask him if he wishes to sell. They have no 
purchasers in view, but they are confident of finding such. 
The speculator will sell, he states, if the offer is interesting. 
The brokers hurry out to work for him for nothing, the 
newspapers have advertised his property with publicity he 
could not buy. The site is a good one and the psychology at- 
tracts a buyer, frequently another speculator. The promoter 
takes his quick profit on the real estate and steps out. Such a 
building site has been known to change hands four times, 
each time at an advance, before it was built upon. 

There are opportunities in New York, Chicago, or any 
other large metropolis, for an enterprising operator to run a 
shoestring into a fortune legitimately in one enterprise. Here 
is a hypothetical case, based, with some surmises, on an actual 
instance in which a man, with no investment whatever, con- - 
structed a great building and sold it at a profit of $2,000,000 
or thereabouts to a large corporation: 


TYPES OF BUILDERS 111 


A mutual-benefit society owned a valuable corner occupied 
_ by a small building used for its own purposes. The society was 
dissolved, its affairs involved, and the property, subject to a 
first mortgage of $500,000, its only asset. The members 
needed cash. Here the speculator stepped in with an offer of 
$1,000,000 for the property on a basis of $200,000 cash and 
a second mortgage for $800,000. With this contract of sale 
in his pocket, he crossed the street to an insurance company, 
convinced them that the property was easily worth $1,500,- 
000, borrowed $800,000 on first mortgage, paid the $200,- 
ooo and the old first mortgage of $500,000 and deposited the 
$100,000 in his bank. 

Now the speculator looked about for a tenant for a new 
building to be erected on the property. The Universal Utili- 
ties Co., a great corporation, required more office space and 
the lease on its present quarters would expire soon. The specu- 
lator was able to offer the directors a very desirable corner and 
a building of any height or design they might prefer. The de- 
tails of the building being decided upon, the corporation 
signed a long-time lease, anywhere from twenty-one to ninety- 
nine years. 

The speculator now capitalized this lease by carrying it to 
a bond house, where he borrowed all the money he needed to 
take up the life-insurance company’s first mortgage and to 
erect the building with a surplusage. The bond house floated 
an issue of securities and distributed it among the public. The 
bonds were well secured and every one profited. 

The thirty-story building was constructed on investors’ 
money and the Universal Utilities Co. moved in. Now the 
speculator went to his tenant and said: “You are paying me 
$1,000,000 a year in rentals. I can show you how you can re- 
duce this charge to $600,000 by buying me out. I am incor- 
porated as the Fulton-Cedar Building Co. We have a $5,000,- 
000 bond issue that calls for $250,000 interest and $100,000 


112 SKYSCRAPERS 


amortization yearly. As the amortization piles up, my com- 
pany will become valuable. I will sell you my company for 
$2,000,000 and you can pick up the second mortgage for 
seventy-five cents on the dollar for cash.” 

The deal offered the Universal Utilities a yearly saving of 
$650,000, less maintenance charges, and the eventual owner- 
ship of the property at a cash outlay of $2,600,000,—the sum 
of the promoter’s price and the discounted second mortgage, 
—and it agreed. The speculator withdrew with something 
like $2,000,000, for his enterprise, judgment and salesman- 
ship. 

Note that he did not make $2,000,000 out of building. It 
is a commentary on the industry that fortunes made out of it 
always are made indirectly. When an industry ranks among 
the first two or three in a great industrial nation and no one 
engaged in it makes much more than a living except indirectly, 
something is wrong. The answer is that building, while con- 
ducted with high technical efficiency, is, economically, the 
most disorganized major activity known to modern business, 
agriculture perhaps excepted. Building and farming linger in 
the economics of the nineteenth century, whence all but these 
have fled. It is as fiercely competitive as the jungle and it is at 
the mercy of the customer to an extraordinary extent. 

The customer is a customer, usually, only once in his life. 
He rarely knows anything of building, and arm in arm with 
this ignorance walks suspicion. His intention is to keep his eyes 
open, buy as cheaply as he can and, having a contract, to de- 
pend upon the building laws, the architect’s inspection, the 
ironclad plans and specifications, a surety bond for completion, 
and, not least, the fact that he has the money and the whip 
hand, to force the builder to deliver. Actually he invites the 
contractor to make what he can. 

The low bidder in this dog-eat-dog competition has been 
forced to sell short on his subcontracts, in the hope of passing 


TYPES OF BUILDERS 113 


- the risk on to the little fellows and thereby seeing himself 
home. For example, the plumbing bids range from $50,000 to 
$60,000. Inasmuch as the builder bid competitively, hé takes 
the low bid, but with the mental reservation that he will beat 
the plumber down to $40,000. He calls the plumber in, con- 
ceals from him the fact that his bid is low and tells him that 
nothing more than $40,000 will get the contract. The plumber, 
caught in this vicious circle, cannot pass the loss on to his 
workmen, whose union protects them, nor to the material men, 
whose business is stable. If he needs the work desperately, he is 
tempted to accept the $40,000 figure and hope to worm his 
way through the specifications by interpretation and substi- 
tution. 
_ If the builder succeeds in grinding down all or most of his 
subcontractors, he is safe and they are playing with bankruptcy. 
If he fails to unload on them, he is certain of a loss; and inas- 
much as necessity forced him into such a position initially, his 
margin of capital is likely to be too meager to survive the loss. 
Such competition explains the fifty per cent of failures in cycles 
of five years in the building industry, as vouched for by the 
Associated General Contractors of America. 

The economic waste under competitive bidding is terrific. 
It costs a well-organized, thoroughly competent building or- 
ganization somewhere between $1,000 and $2,000 to prepare 
an estimate and analysis of a complete set of plans and specifi- 
cations, and requires from two to three weeks of intensive 
work. Such a builder is in contact with twenty to fifty lines of 
subcontracting, with perhaps a dozen representatives in each 
line. A total cost of possibly $10,000 to $15,000 is incurred 
by these subcontractors in addition to the general contractor’s 
estimating. 

An owner who wishes to exhaust every possibility of the 
bidding market is apt to send for ten to fifteen general con- 
tractors, all presumed to go into the estimate in fullest detail. 


114 SKYSCRAPERS 


It is probable that all these general contractors will circularize 
much the same market of subcontractors, and therefore the 
geometric progression of cost may not apply; but it is fair to 
argue that, on a building to cost between $2,000,000 and 
$3,000,000, the free estimating service alone furnished by the 
army of contestants arrayed by the owner will run from 
$25,000 to $35,000—all but a minor fraction of it dead loss. 

An increasing number of architects and owners will not be 
parties to this wasteful demand upon the building industry, 
appreciating that the builder properly is a fiduciary agent as 
much as a first-rate architect; that things cost what they cost, 
and any endeavor to make them cost less carries with it the 
risk of making them cost more, while almost certainly jeop- 
ardizing the quality of the work. 

To return to the Universal Utilities Co., why did such a 
corporation not oversee the building of its own home and save 
this high middleman’s charge? Because it and corporations in 
general are unfamiliar with building and are timid about en- 
gaging in so foreign an enterprise. The directors have other 
and more important matters to think about and prefer to rent 
or buy on the market. 

Because of this unfamiliarity with and timidity about build- 
ing on the part of lessees and owners, professional builders 
sometimes propose and initiate new building enterprises, as 
speculative builders do. The distinction is that the speculator 
builds on his own, and usually builds first and finds tenants 
later. He is a speculator first and a builder incidentally. The 
professional first finds an individual or corporate owner or 
tenant, and then builds for him. 

The usual picture of the genesis of a skyscraper runs some- 
thing like this: “A” owns a corner vacant or occupied by old, 
outmoded, small buildings. After long consideration, he de- 
cides to put up a many-storied office-building there, arranges 
its financing, calls in an architect, states his desires, hires a 


TYPES OF BUILDERS 115 


builder and either engages a broker to find tenants or func- 
tions as the operating and renting agency himself. 

It may happen, however, that a builder notes that the cor- 
ner would lend itself to a specific improvement—hotel, office- 
building, bank, apartment house, theatre, department store. 
If he is a speculator, he attempts to buy an option. If he is a 
professional builder, he first looks about for a possible lessee 
for such an imagined structure, finds. one who might consider 
it, seeks out the owner, suggests that a tenant might be found 
in advance, brings owner and prospect together, advises with 
them, takes the contract for construction and turns the com- 
pleted property over to the owner within a set time at an 
agreed price or at cost plus his agreed fee. 

There are three principal classes of lenders to whom owners 
and builders may turn. The cheapest money obtainable is the 
so-called savings-bank loan at five per cent or a shade under. 
Savings banks will lend up to fifty or sixty per cent of the 
value of a completed structure upon completion. When such 
a loan is arranged, it is customary to obtain the money for use 
during construction from banking institutions specializing in 
such business. The rate in New York fluctuates between six and 
seven per cent. 

The insurance companies offer the next lowest rate of inter- 
est—five and a half per cent on completed structures. Some 
of them make what they term a building and permanent loan, 
advancing money for construction to responsible builders from 
time to time as the work progresses. The interest rate is higher 
to cover the cost of the necessary service of inspection. It also 
is possible on occasion to borrow money from estates by ar- 
rangement with the trustees. None, of course, lends up to the 
full value of the property or the whole cost of construction. 

The bond houses dealing exclusively or largely in building 
issues are a recent and important development in the industry. 
They underwrite first mortgage bond issues at six to ten points 


116 SKYSCRAPERS 


off the principal sum, covering their profit, risk and distribu- 
tion costs, and sell the bonds, bearing six per cent interest or 
thereabouts, to the public. Inasmuch as they turn over the 
principal, less their discount, to the trustee immediately, theirs 
is the risk of disposing of the bond issue to investors. The bor- 
rower in this instance pays all interest charges during con- 
struction, although he may not require a sizeable part of the 
sum for as much as nine months; under the first and second 
methods he pays interest only as he uses the money. 

These bond houses have been widely criticized, as new in- 
stitutions are apt to be. The criticism is not well founded, for 
they are a wholly legitimate and an invaluable addition to the 
machinery of building. They have tapped vast sources of new 
capital for construction, without which we could not have 
built on the scale we have done since the war. The fact that 
one such house has failed under questionable circumstances 
has no more pertinence than the occasional failure of a bank 
has to the fundamental soundness of banking. 

The bond houses were brought into being by the inertia of 
the old-time lending companies, which, in the earlier days of 
big building, continued to subscribe to the fetish, inherited 
from England, that a lender never must seek out a borrower 


or encourage him, but should wait on the latter’s supplication. 


The borrowing and lending of money in modern business are 
as mutual accommodations as the buying and selling of mer- 
chandise, but the ancient superstition that the lender granted 
a favor and the borrower received one persisted. | 

It was not long after the start of the intensive metropolitan 
development ushered in by the skyscraper that these great lend- 
ing companies were allocating as much as $100,000,000 an- 
nually, which, by self-interest, they should have lent on real 
estate in order to diversify their assets. Consider the hypotheti- 


cal case of a Chicago real estate operator of the period 1g00- 


10. He had a $2,000,000 project. The controller of a lending 


Joe 


TYPES OF BUILDERS ee 


company or vice-president in charge of investment knew of 
old that the operator was a legitimate, successful builder. He 
read in the newspapers of the proposed building. Across his 
desk daily came a mass of information on real estate and build- 
ing conditions. There was little system to this intelligence, but 
it confirmed the lending official’s surmise that the operator’s 
site was a good one and the project soundly conceived. It was 
to the lending company’s interest to find such outlets for its 
funds, but it made no move. 

In due time, the operator appeared, hat in hand, laid his 
estimates before the lending company and asked for a sixty 
per cent, or $1,200,000 loan—a proper figure. The official 
glanced at the estimates and the first thing he said was that 
it was the wrong time to build. Regardless of whether build- 
ing was up or down, the operator was certain to hear that the 
city was overbuilt and the business outlook gloomy. He left, 
returned in a few days and heard this story again. When he 
returned a third time, the attack had shifted. He was told that 
his building was overestimated. Perhaps the company could 
lend on a valuation of $1,600,000, perhaps not. Next the 
lender trimmed off this and shaved off that, reducing the deal 
to a David Harum horse trade. 

The operator knew in advance exactly how this farce was to 
be conducted. If he was a bit unscrupulous, he estimated his 
building at $2,500,000, instead of $2,000,000, and after 
three or four weeks of dickering, the least he would take and 
the most the company would lend teetered into balance, all 
without too nice regard for the equities or for the actual earn- 
ing power of the building. True, the tradition was that opera- 
tors were apt to be slippery customers or vague-minded opti- 
mists upon whom it was wise to keep a tight rein, and the tra- 
dition had a basis in fact. As building evolved from a trade 
into an industry, however, the lending companies remained 
static. 


118 SKYSCRAPERS 


The operator, under these circumstances, may have been 
driven to the then much higher rate of the early bond houses. 
As this new form of underwriting and brokerage became 
more stabilized, the rates were lowered, though they continue, 
naturally, to be higher than bank or insurance rates. When 
an operator goes to a bond house to-day, he is greeted with: 
‘Fine! We want to do business with you if we can. That is a 
good corner and it looks like a good time to build.” 

When the modern operator lays his calculations of expected 
rentals on the table, the bond house refers to its codified charts 
and quickly verifies the figures, and checks them promptly 
against the recorded costs of fifty analogous buildings. 

It is not here necessary to be hypothetical; let us cite a famous 
instance of how a speculative builder’s vision shamed the unani- 
mous judgment of experts who kept their noses too close to 
the copy-book of tradition. 

In the course of building a subway, New York found it 
necessary to buy a block in the heart of the city. The subway 
curved sharply at a depth of fifty feet under part of the prop- 
erty and there a great excavation was made. When the subway 
was finished, the city offered the land for sale subject to the 
easement of its improvement fifty feet below. Now “ease- 
ment” was a terrifying word in those days. Immemorially it 
had implied a bar sinister on the escutcheon of title. Lending 
companies averted their faces, and the property, so advanta- 
geously situated in every respect, lay idle. 

Among the buyers who had considered its purchase was a 
concern which planned a new building in this neighborhood. 
The site was ideal for its purposes—the best available in all 
the region, but the directors choked on the easement. At 
length a bold speculator braved this sinister thing lurking be- 
low ground and bought the whole property from the city for 
$2,900,000. Thereupon he turned around and sold the less — 
desirable interior half, which was not encumbered by a sub- 


TYPES OF BUILDERS 119 


way easement, to the very concern which previously had flirted 
with the property and skittered away, and they probably paid 
him considerably more than half the $2,900,000 he had given 
the city for it all. 

While the concern prepared to improve its half with a high 
building, the speculator promoted another large building on 
his corner half. As is the case with promoters, he endeavored 
to borrow every cent possible by mortgage and otherwise to 
carry out his plan. 

The usual sources of such money told him that he was offer- 
ing damaged goods and waved him away summarily, forcing 
him to turn to an early bond house, where he borrowed $6,- 
000,000 and paid for it through the nose, the net proceeds to 
him being little more than $5,000,000. 

These facts were widely known in New York and there was 
a great clucking of tongues. The enterprise was denounced in 
genesis, financing and execution as a reckless piece of specu- 
lative folly. A survey was cited, as one argument, to show that 
there already were several million feet of unrented space in 
that section of the city. Nevertheless, the building was eighty- 
five per cent rented before completion and was highly profita- 
ble in operation from the outset. Soon after it was opened, it 
was wholly occupied and offices rarely have been available 
in it since. 

The next chapter was even more ironic. Within a few years 
after completion, the promoter, finding burdensome the dras- 
tic annual sinking fund which the original bond issue had im- 
posed upon him, went to one of the great concerns of the 
country, just such as had balked at the easement and deplored 
the whole venture as unwise and unsafe, and borrowed on the 
property at a low rate of interest, $6,000,000, with which he 
retired the bond issue and paid the premium on the bonds 
which such retirement always involves. Few of us can hope for 
such a handsome retraction. 


120 SKYSCRAPERS 


Since then he has been offered and has refused $11,000,- 
ooo for the property. There was nothing accidental in this in- 
creased value; no sudden shift in business channels or other 
unexpected turn of events explains it. All of it was predictable 
in the light of New York’s previous history. The experts sim- 
ply had sold short on New York and had been frightened by 
a name. 

Fiduciary concerns are the trustees of vast sums of others’ 
money and they are rightfully conservative. As the custodi- 
ans of these great reservoirs of capital, however, they have a 
secondary duty to industry. If they are to err on either side, 
it is much to the public interest that it be toward caution, but 
it is most to the public interest that they strike an intelligent 
mean. Conservatism always is in danger of atrophying to re- 
action. 

The survey referred to was made by a firm of unques- 
tioned integrity but of literal turn of mind—as might be ex- 
pected of statisticians. They began with arbitrary boundaries, 
taking in a district geographically compact but widely diver- 
gent in land values and transportation facilities. Then they 
painstakingly charted every foot of vacant floor space within 
those boundaries and struck a total. A casual check showed 
that of this total of 2,000,000 feet of unrented space, some 


three-quarters was in old, even ancient structures, many of | 
them inconveniently located, and that an inconsiderable part 


was in modern office-buildings. 

Properly located modern office-buildings will fill quickly 
in defiance of surveys so long as their competitors are old, out- 
moded and badly situated. The public seeks new, modern, 
convenient office space just as it seeks the new, the modern 
and the convenient in homes, automobiles, clothes and all its 
wants. Fine new office space begets more fine new office space, 
and ‘the suffering falls on the old and outinoded. Skyscrapers 
tend to grow obsolescent as do motor cars and skirts. The 


TYPES OF BUILDERS 


121 


problem of the owner, architect and builder is so to design and 
construct them that progressive maintenance will largely over- 
come the obsolescence, for, unlike motor cars and skirts, they 
have permanent, stabilizing advantages of favorable location. 


Courtesy of Starrett Brothers, Inc. 


Photograph of an accurately detailed scale 

model, six feet high, of the Wall and Hanover 

Street Building, by which the architects 

studied details, proportion, color of material, 
etc. Delano & Aldrich, Architects. 


78s 
See § es 788 


(ein ete ere taipre tn net eon 


sed 


| Bose Geie sere) 


Courtesy of Yasuo Matsut. 


Isometric study of Wall and Hanover Street 

Building, illustrating possibilities of setback 

under New York building law without regard 

to design or fenestration. See pages 71 and 
102. 


CHAPTER XI 
THE GOOD OLD DAYS, AND DEMOLITIONS OLD AND NEW 


MoperNn builders have frequent occasion to smile wryly at 
the phrase, “Good old-time building.” “Those were the days,” 
sighs the romantic layman, and perhaps points to some beau- 
tiful piece of mahogany, let us say a fine old door, superb in 
its antique coloring, rich in its well-kept finish, but solid. 
‘Solid mahogany doors,” the sentimentalist says, and points 
with pride. The builder also admires its venerable finish and 
marvels at the painstaking labor that some devout craftsman 
of old put into it; worked out by hand with infinite patience 
and appreciation of its graining and color. The panels were 
made and finished separately before the door was assembled. 
The mouldings were worked out by hand with old-fashioned 
moulding planes, limited in their scope by a few standard and 
well-accepted quirks and ogees; perhaps the assortment of 
some honest Scotch tool-maker. But with all this craftsman- 
ship, how was it put together? The stiles and rails were solid. 
“Of course!’’ says the admirist. Yet nothing could be worse 
for the door, according to modern standards. Our finest mod- 
ern doors are built up with veneers, also selected for their 
beauty of figure and color, but selected from an infinitely 
greater stock and assortment than the old-fashioned joiner 
could possibly have inspected in a lifetime of labor. For mod- 
ern lumbering selects and assorts, not from a few mahogany 
logs brought from far away India by some good trading clip- 
per ship, but from vast stocks of imported, culled, selected and 
scientifically kiln-dried mahogany, where the choicest pieces 
from thousands of logs came before the discerning eye of a 
trained specialist in hardwood. 

But to go on. The old door was “‘mortised and tenoned,”’ 
and carefully clamped after gluing with the best glue available 

122 


THE GOOD OLD DAYS 123 


to the conscientious craftsman of old, but it was at best an 
apothecary’s concoction of uncertain ingredients, with much 
hocus-pocus about its mysterious composition,—in reality a 
crudely prepared reduction of horse hoofs and gum arabic. 
So the old door was glued and pegged and varnished with a 
varnish about as uncertainly prepared as the glue. It graced a 
mansion and was the pride of the lord of the manor; but it 
started to fall apart about a decade after it was made. And 
when steam heating was installed in the manor house, the 
fate of the glorious piece of craftsmanship was sealed. It re- 
mains to-day the admiration of its owner because it has been 
glued and reglued, and revarnished, and indeed, had such 
lavish care bestowed upon it that veneration commences to 
take the place of critical inspection. The open joints in the old 
door add to its picturesqueness; its sag is unobserved or re- 
joiced in, and its oft-repaired hardware is just what it ought 
to be, although it must be handled gingerly. 

The fact is that the old door is judged by a wholly dif- 
ferent standard than its modern counterpart would be. Mod- 
ern doors, built up on cores as we have seen, with beautifully 
selected veneers, with lock-jointed corners, with dovetailed 
splines between the alternated grains of wood in the cores, 
glued with scientifically prepared glue that is mixed to for- 
mula after painstaking research, are as much better than the 
grand old darlings as electric lights are better than sperm lamps. 

Consider the good old masonry before the days of Portland 
cement. Again we have perfection of craftsmanship in the lay- 
ing, but look closely. It was laid in lime, the best mortar then 
available, but cracked and crazed it is, handsome in its im- 
perfections and venerable through sentimental association, but 
constructionally inferior. It simply would not pass the strength 
tests of any modern building department, although many 
cities permit lime mortar in the curtain walls of skyscrapers, 
recognizing that the structural steel fulfills the complete struc- 


124 SKYSCRAPERS 


tural requirement and the walls are simply devices for keeping 
out the weather. In fact, all sentimentality aside, its cracks and 
imperfections in the shoddiest modern work would horrify 
the very sentimentalist who longs for the good old days. 

When the wrecking begins, two or three men will drive 
crowbars into the lime-mortared joints of the massive walls of 
granite and marble backed up with brick masonry, and will 
pry them apart with one heave. Lime mortar was the best 
binder known in the good old days. The thin curtain wall of 
an old twelve-story steel-frame building will give the wreck- 
ers infinitely more work, for cement has welded the bricks 
into a homogeneous mass. Bricks will shake out of lime mor- 
tar like peanuts from their shells, are easily cleaned and are 
sold at second-hand. Cemented brick walls are battered down, 
breaking across the bricks more often than at the joints, and 
are carried out to sea—great masonry chunks, to be dumped 
as so much dead waste. With the mere curtain walls down and 
the hollow tile partitions and floor arches battered out, the 
wreckers will be confronted with the real structure, a frame of 
steel which can be cut apart only with the modern ingenuity 
of the oxy-acetylene flame. 

These old buildings were massive, with space wasted both 
in their ponderously thick walls and in poor arrangement. 
They were the best building in their time and they were 
amply sturdy, as their long and useful lives prove, but no such 
margins of safety and endurance were built into them as is 
done. as a matter of course in their descendants, the skeleton 
steel structures of to-day. 

Demolition of some existing building almost invariably 
precedes the erection of a skyscraper, and such work has come 
to be a vocation in itself. Wrecking and the sale of second- 
hand building material go hand in hand, and if the buildings 
to be demolished are old, they sometimes yield a surprising 
amount of salvage in the way of brick, windows, glass, stone, 


THE GOOD OLD DAYS 125 


lumber, doors and trim, to say nothing of the junk metal from 
pipes, radiators, plumbing fixtures, etc. The wrecker has out- 
let for these materials with a clientele and a market far re- 
moved from the throngs who idly watch him work and won- 
der what is to become of the vast amount of rubbish that roars 
down the chutes to the waiting trucks. Dust and refuse, made 
soggy in the vain effort to abate the nuisance, fill the air with 
a disagreeable acrid odor that characteristically bespeaks a 
demolition job. 

Go to remote parts of the city, in the tenement districts, 
where racial colonies huddle together in out-of-the-way sec- 
tions, where thrifty foreigners are making their first struggles 
with property ownership, and there you will find these sec- 
ond-hand materials being put to good use. Sometimes these 
structures are grotesque and laughable; sometimes they are 
put together with considerable effort at design and good ar- 
rangement; but they are to building what the wearers of sec- 
ond-hand clothing are to the patrons of the new and fashion- 
able shops. Yet in the aggregate, these buildings of second- 
hand material absorb a large proportion of the salvage from 
the demolitions we see. 

More and more are we seeing steel and fire-proof buildings 
demolished to make way for greater ones, and these yield 
valuable structural steel, motors, fans, etc. Again, the best of 
this salvage finds its way into lesser structures, the steel to be 
used as lintels and wall-bearing beams; seldom a column, 
however, both because columns are generally designed for a 
certain very specific location and floor height, with definite 
connections and base, and also because old columns are cut 
with the oxy-acetylene torch, leaving ragged ends. 

A few efforts have been made to salvage the skeleton frame 
for use at another site, but in these cases it has proven of 
doubtful economy. In the first place, the building to be built 
in the new location would have to be exactly the size and 


126 SKYSCRAPERS 


shape of the one demolished. Beyond this, the basements, story 
heights and ground levels or grades would have to be the same. 
Elevator and stair arrangement would be the same unless the 
new owner desired to make structural changes in the field as 
the frame is re-erected, a most costly and unsatisfactory pro- 
cedure. Finally, the floor plans of the new and old buildings 
would have to be about alike, due to the column spacing and 
general fixity of requirement of the original structures. Add 
to this the fact that the old structure probably was torn down 
because of its obsolescence, and the new owner has little room 
for consideration of re-use of the old frame. 

I have known of one of two of these attempts to save the 
steel frames of buildings, thought to be so standard in con- 
struction as to seem surely usuable at some other site. Such 
salvaging involved most careful demolition. As each piece was 
lowered, it was carefully marked and recorded. At the stor- 
age yard, great care had to be taken in the stacking, for not 
only was it necessary to keep a record of the position of each 
beam, girder and column, but the storage had to be so con- 
ducted that as the members were stacked they would lie in 
their proper order for re-setting. Thus, the steel skeleton must 
be stored commencing with the roof. The misplacing of a few 
girders or a length of column would involve endless confu- 
sion. Consider further that if the material lies in storage any 
length of time, the identifying marks rust off or become ob- 
scured by dirt, and are washed off by rain. 

The steel forming the main auditorium of the old Madison 
Square Garden in New York, I am told, was stored in antici- 
pation of re-erecting it as an auditorium in another city. In 
my opinion, it is still a doubtful experiment in economy. The 
trusses were of an old and obsolete design, flimsy and waste- 
ful of space, and last but not least, difficult to erect. Perhaps 
the backers of this experiment will some day disclose to the 
world how it all worked out. 


ee 


a at 


THE GOOD OLD DAYS 127 


There are some rare cases where particularly beautiful edi- 
fices have been removed from one place and set up in another. 
The notable example I think of is the removal of the facade 
of St. Bartholomew’s Church from 44th Street and Madison 
Avenue to Park Avenue and 5oth Street, New York. Senti- 
ment largely dictated, and it is doubtful whether any economy 
resulted from the effort. 

So we need waste no tears from an economic point of view 
over the demolition of beautiful or useful structures to make 
way for others, bigger and better; for such is building and 
such it always has been. 


Courtesy of Starrett Brothers. 


An outside scaffold containing all the temporary hoists built on the Wall and Hanover 
Street Building, New York, to save time in construction. 


CHAPTER XII 
EXCAVATIONS, SHORING AND BRACING 


EXCAVATION seems a prosaic thing—just taking out dirt. 
But consider it in connection with retaining walls hoiding 
busy thoroughfares and great and complicated shoring and 
underpinning operations, deep foundations, water, clay, muck 
and rock, piers with elaborate foundation structures, and it 
commences to take on an imposing importance. Planned 
with care, it must go on uninterruptedly, with every move 
like the moves on a chess board. Here certain column footings 
must be sunk, first located accurately by field engineers in the 
roar and turmoil of steam shovels and derrick excavation 
buckets, the structural engineer’s plans having precisely lo- 
cated these column centres with respect to the building lines — 
and their depth below grade. When these few advance foot- 
ings are completed, they are used to receive the thrust of the 
long shores holding the streets and adjoining buildings, that 
other shores may be removed to permit the building of more 
footings. And so it goes—planning, scheming, daring, safety 
and progress, all must be merged, and the inexorable time 
schedule and budget are ever before the builder’s eyes. 

Water, whether from the surface, from springs or from the 
tides, is ever the enemy of foundation work, but the builder 
may conquer it if he be alert. In some locations in cities on the 
seaboard, the ground is saturated from the sea and in a mea- 
sure the water level in the ground rises and falls with the tide; 
but it must be conquered nevertheless, and the devices of the 
resourceful builder are many. The power of water to dissolve 
and its swift erosive action on stable soils make necessary the 
vigilance that we see in the preparation for a foundation job. 
Derricks, engines, timbers, planking, pumps, and all manner 

128 


Courtesy of Raymond Concrete Pile Co. Courtesy of Raymond Concrete Pile Co. 


The Raymond concrete pile ready for driving. A Raymond concrete pile partly driven, showing the 
driving mechanism and the steam trip-hammer. 


Courtesy of Starrett Brothers, Inc. 


DRIVING CONCRETE PILES 
Note the casings at the left; also the finished capping, right centre, and the men preparing a 
cap, foreground. Note underpinning of adjoining building which was done preparatory 
to pile driving to relieve adjoining building from ground shock of the driving operation. 


130 SKYSCRAPERS 


of tools and appliances are there on hand when the work 
starts, for here is no place for waiting. When erosion and dis- 
solving soil once start, there is no turning them back; the best 
that can be hoped for is to stem them, and the occasional 
street cave-in or damaged adjoining walls, generally bespeak 
lack of forethought or, perhaps more accurately, lack of sound 
engineering knowledge. Accidents will happen, of course, for 
at best, it is a hazardous undertaking. It was Marshall Ney, 
I think, who said, “To be defeated is no disgrace; but to be 
surprised, a disgrace.’’ Some such figure of speech could well 
be taken as the slogan of the foundation engineer. 

Excavating is not just taking out dirt, even in the complex 
environment of which we have just spoken, for excavation is 
inseparably linked up with the construction of the scientific 
foundation. Consider earth and rock and water and then the 
agglomeration of all three in a single deep foundation. Added 
to these difficulties, adjoining buildings are nearly always with 
us; sometimes just plain, little three-story buildings with rick- 
ety lime-mortar walls, sometimes greater and more compli- 
cated structures. Whatever they are, they nearly always have 
to be underpinned and shored. Underpinning means carrying 
footings of an existing structure to a greater depth, implying 
at the same time the bettering of the original footings; and . 
always the work must be done with the least possible disturb- 
ance of the existing structure. Shoring, sometimes properly 
called shoring and bracing, is just what that dual term im- 
plies. It is the placing of heavy braces against a wall or any 
heavy structure to give security and support. When a building 
is demolished, the adjoining buildings are frequently deprived 
of a needed lateral support on which they were originally de- 
signed to depend. Thus, the removal of one or more of a con- 
tinuous row of brick buildings sometimes leaves unstable ad- 
joining walls, and these have to be braced, or shored, as build- 
ers say. Such old buildings were frequently constructed with 


Courtesy of The Foundation Co. 


Sinking a caisson. A heavy weight is required to over- 

come the ground friction of the caisson as it sinks, 

also to counteract the upper pressure of the air with- 
in the caisson. 


a. ea 


Courtesy of The Foundation Ce. 


fi 


Busy pneumatic caisson job. Foundations for the Federal Reserve Bank Building, 


: : 4 
Courtesy of Underpinning and Foundation Co., I 


ne. 


Riding down a steel tube in close quarters. A trip- 
hammer is hung from the derrick fall, and must be 
manceuvred to drive the tube accurately in place. 


New York. Note how com- 


pletely the derricks cover the job. Bucket being lowered through a caisson lock, lower right. 


1382 SKYSCRAPERS 


“‘party-walls”; that is, a single wall, generally twelve inches 
thick, serving the structures on either side of it, and the prop- 
erty line was an imaginary one passing through the centre of 
the wall. Flues for the fireplaces of both buildings generally 
honeycomb these old walls, but at best they are insecure and 
are troublesome factors in the new building. Party-walls have 
an ancient legal status, with much legal lore about the rights 
of the parties, and also much legal rubbish, generally invoked 
by the owner whose building remains to be dwarfed by the 
splendid new structure alongside. 


Shoring of streets includes the struts, braces ands spur braces 


that press against the breast pieces or “wales” running con- 
tinuously along the sides of the lot where earth is to be held from 
slipping. Sheet piling, as its name implies, is that continuous 
sheet of pieces laid edge to edge and driven down a foot or 
two 1n advance of the excavation which it protects. In simple 
work, sheet piling is ordinary plank, generally with the cut- 
ting edge somewhat sharpened to bite into the earth and 
facilitate driving. In more complicated and deeper footings, 
the sheet piling is of steel, specially rolled for the purpose with 
interlocking edges. 

Once in a while an adjoining building has deeper founda- 
tions than the one about to be built, and the builder’s heart 
rejoices, for one of the perils and anxieties of his calling is here 
removed; because, in spite of all the advance in the science of 
foundations and the improved facilities that modern inven- 
tion has contrived, foundation and underpinning work is 
hazardous at best, and the sigh of relief comes to every one 
concerned when the foundation is finished ane the walls are 
up to grade. 

If we have access to the adjoining basement, and in some 
cases the law gives that access, underpinning is relatively sim- 
plified. Here we cut holes through the wall to be supported 
at intervals and thrust heavy timbers through, supporting the 


foe 


EXCAVATIONS, SHORING, AND BRACING hae) 


inner end on cribbing laid on the cellar floor of the old build- 
ing. A series of these properly supported inside and outside on 
cribbing with the contact on each timber securely wedged up 
to insure a bearing, together with a few supporting shores, 
and excavating can proceed under the old wall, which now is 
carried securely on a series of these timbers straddling the €x- 
cavation. These timbers are called needles. When very heavy 
buildings are to be supported in this way, the needles are 
heavy steel girders. Needling is not a common occurrence 
where heavy adjoining buildings are encountered, the more 
common way being to underpin the walls in short sections or 
piers; or to introduce steel tubes, jacking them down one after 
another until the entire wall is caught up. Then the excava- 
tion proceeds. The driving of these tubes is not so easily ex- 
plained at this point, and we will leave the subject here to be 
taken up when we are watching the driving of steel tube foun- 
dations. 

Thus it is seen that for the skyscraper, foundations are the 
all-important thing; the first concern of the builder, the work 
that demands his greatest ingenuity and contains his greatest 
risk; yet out of it he gets his greatest triumph. When bed-rock 
is encountered, down into bed-rock we go, where depth of 
basements, one below another, demand quarrying on a stu- 
pendous scale, with the added difficulty of trussing up busy 
city streets and channelling along adjoining high buildings. 
Here the work-gangs sweat and toil behind chugging, hissing 
air-drills; then the “Look out!” yelled and taken up from cor- 
ner to corner of the excavation; a silence for only a moment; 
men stand behind obstacles; a quick push on the igniter by 
the blasting foreman; a dull booming thud, smothered under 
a blanket of heavy woven cable,—a hundred tons of rock have 
been dislodged. Then the rattle and roar of the pneumatic 
drills again, and in a trice the great excavation swarms with 
workmen back at their tasks. 


134 SKYSCRAPERS 


Let us stand on the curbstone and observe the busy activity 
where a great skyscraper is to be erected. The demolition has 
been completed and perhaps a steam shovel or two are slash- 
ing at an earth bank and nervously whirling to dump their 
loaded dippers into waiting trucks. Shorers are working at the 
sheet-piling along the street lines, and already a maze of tim- 
bers and struts proclaim the battle that is expected, to hold the 
streets secure until the permanent construction is completed. 
Underpinning of the adjoining structures is apt to have been 
about completed, for the far-sighted builder attends to that 
among the first things he does. If he has been able to get access 
to the basement of the old structures a month or two before 
demolition starts, the underpinning gangs have been as busy 
as beavers in that dark basement carrying the footings of the 
old adjoining structures to a safe depth, in anticipation of the 
excavation and disturbance that will entail on the commence- 
ment of the work of opening up the adjoining lot for its deep 
basements and adequate foundations. 

That shoring of the streets-——how haphazard it all seems, and 
what utter confusion in the scattered piles of timber and plank- 
ing! From the curbstone it will surprise us to know that the 
wales or breast pieces of the sheet piling have been placed with 
engineering accuracy to allow for the building of the curb 
walls, which must be waterproofed from the outside perhaps; 
and in their placing, the plan of just how that wall is to be 
built, how the workmen are to conduct the operation, have all 
to be taken into account. Then there are the “shores,” braces 
of heavy timbers, generally placed slantwise down into the lot, 
thrusting perhaps against a previously built row of piers that 
this plan of action calls for. The “spur braces” run at diagonal 
lines from points about ten feet down on the shores, spreading 
on the wales like the outspread fingers of a man’s hand. These 
are to keep the wales from bowing inward under the terrific 
pressure that street earth will impose on the sheet piling. 


EXCAVATIONS, SHORING, AND BRACING 135 


“Confusion and seeming disorder,” you may say. “No; 
order of the most deliberate kind,” is the answer. The shores 
and spur braces have been located with a nicety to allow for 
columns and footings between them, and at such levels and 
such slants as will allow for the setting of columns and struc- 
tural floor members. Often, before those braces can be re- 
moved, the pressure of the street has to be taken up by the 
sidewalk beams which, in turn, transfer the thrust through the 
ground floor and basement structural beams; and these must, 
perhaps, depend for further reinforcing upon the masonry 
floor arches. Thus these floors are to act as continuous plates 
to hold stable the pressure from the street, perhaps the ground 
water pressure as well. Through the sheeting and shoring, old 
Mother Nature has been tricked into holding still while the 
permanent structure is being built to hold her in place forever. 


Courtesy of Starrett Brothers, Inc. 


Kresge Department Store, Newark, N. J. Shoring and bracing and setting steel at one 
time. The thrust of the heavy shores is being transferred to the column footings and struc- 
tural steel, which will allow the completion of the excavation along the line. 


CHAPTER “Ati 
FOUNDATIONS OF VARIOUS SORTS 


A PNEUMATIC caisson is a formidable sounding thing, and 
in fact bears implication of a subject too technical to be dis- 
cussed here; yet it is used by the skyscraper builder to great 
effect in structures where foundations and excavations must 
be very deep, and ground-water, quicksand, and muck are 
not conquerable by any other means. Take an ordinary drink- 
ing glass and invert it, and then press it down in a bowl of 
water. It will be seen that the water level inside the glass is 
considerably below the level in the rest of the bowl. Here is a 
miniature pneumatic caisson. Now, if one could introduce a 
tube through the glass and sealed to it, and then blow on that 
tube, it would be observed that the level of the water under 
the glass would sink still lower. Here we have the pneumatic 
pressure feature of the caisson. The heavy, steam-driven air- 
compressor that puffs lugubriously all day long beside a cais- 
son job is supplying the pressure that we observe when we 
blow on the tube. Now suppose we fill the bowl with sand, 
leaving ample water in the bowl also, and press the glass 
down. The level of the sand would remain the same both in- 
side and outside of the glass, but, unseen, the water level in 
the saturated mixture would recede under the compression of 
the air in the glass. Add pressure from the tube, and the 
water level will be slowly forced down to the bottom rim of 
the inverted glass. And here we have the whole principle of 
the pneumatic caisson. 

136 


Courtesy of Starrett Bros. Inc. 


Driving steel cylinders for the foundations of the L. S. Plaut Department Store, Newark, N. J. Four pile 
drivers, using steam hammers, were employed, and over 40,000 linear feet of cylinders were installed. 


Courtesy of Starrett Building Co. 


Not a gipsy camp but rain protection for a series of “Chicago wells” being carried down by the open caisson 
method, a development made possible by the soil conditions found in the Great Lakes region. 


138 SKYSCRAPERS 


The great, air-tight boxes or steel drums we see in a Cais- 
son foundation job are only the glass enlarged, plus the air 
locks on top that allow men and buckets to pass through into 
the inside pressure, where the water is forced back by that 
pressure. The “‘sand hogs” dig out the muck and sand, load it 
into buckets and tap on the steel lock, a signal that all is ready 
to hoist. The bucket is pulled up by the cable that passes 
through a rubber gasket fitting closely around it and permit- 
ting the escape of the least possible amount of air. Up it passes 


through the first gate, which opens to let the bucket through. © 


Then that gate is closed behind the bucket, thus impounding 
the pressure below where the men are working. The lower 
gate having closed, the upper gate opens-and the bucket is 
hauled out into the open air and dumped into a hopper await- 
ing the trucks. Then the bucket is swung back over the lock, 
passes through the first gate and the gate closes behind it. Again 
the gasket clasps the cable, signal is rapped on the outside of the 
caisson, the men below rap back a signal of readiness, the lower 
gate is opened, and the bucket passes through into the caisson 
chamber, where the cycle of operation is repeated. Men pass 
in and out of the caisson much as the buckets do, and thus the 
air pressure inside the caisson is always maintained until the 
desired foundation is reached, generally either bed-rock or 
hard-pan. 

Now this caisson is heavily loaded with a great superim- 
posed concrete block, which is added to as the caisson sinks, 
and the caisson is allowed to sink only as fast as the sand hogs 
excavate ahead of it. It frequently happens that the weight of 
the concrete must be supplemented by tons of iron piled on 
top of it, great iron cubes which look strangely incongruous 
around a masonry foundation until their use is understood. 
The caisson has a sharp cutting edge of steel, and in sinking, 
it cuts its way just ahead of the excavators inside. The caissons 


thus sink slowly, but under a guiding skill that the builder 


e 


FOUNDATIONS OF VARIOUS SORTS 139 


furnishes. When the caisson finally arrives at the desired foun- 
dation, concrete is sent down in the same buckets to be packed 
in by the workmen inside. First it is packed against the out- 
side edges, and then on the bottom, the workmen gradually 
receding toward the lock tube through which the buckets of 
concrete pass. The process is not unlike a man painting a 
floor. He paints from the outside, gradually receding to the 
door, from the threshold of which he puts on the last few 
brushfuls. So it is with the concrete packing of the air cham- 
ber. The superimposed block of concrete which furnished 
the weight to sink the cutting edge becomes the pier of the 
permanent foundation, and the concrete packed tight against 
it in what was formerly the air chamber forms a homogeneous 
whole, a solid mass of concrete from bed-rock to the desired 
height. 

If it be the plan of operation to make a continuous wall 
around the excavation, these caissons are placed successively, 
one touching another like dominoes on edge. The joints be- 
tween the caissons are sealed, and then the builder has prac- 
tically unrestricted sway to dig out the material inside the great 
cofferdam thus formed, and the footings inside are built on 
bed-rock without further trouble from earth or water. 

Wood piling has a very respectable antiquity, and if we fol- 
low the archzologist, we can connect it with the earliest forms 
of human habitation in the shell mounds of the lake dwellers, 
where the fragments of these submerged pile stilts are still to be 
found in the lakes of Switzerland. This is only mentioned to 
note the everlasting quality of wood when submerged and not 
exposed to destruction by organisms such as the teredo, or by 
water-borne wood solvents. Medieval builders used them, it 
is recorded, in connection with heavy foundations, but their 
use could hardly be classed as any feature of a science, although 
a few great foundation engineers of the Renaissance no doubt 
gave scientific value to the uses they made of them. 


140 SKYSCRAPERS 


In the early days of skyscraper building in Chicago, it was 
the practice to dig down a few feet into the upper stratum, 
and there construct “spread” footings; but it was a most un- 
satisfactory, and at times uncertain, procedure, and in fact, 
acted to retard building to great height—twenty stories was 
about all those old “floating” foundations could stand, Even 
then the buildings settled alarmingly, and it was sometimes 
years after completion that they came to any real stability. We 
have noted the case of the Federal Building in Chicago which 
was condemned on account of its excessive settling. It was 
taken as a matter of course in some of those earlier Chicago 
skyscrapers that they would settle, sometimes as much as a 
foot or more, and little was thought about it if they did not 
get too far out of plumb. 

Yet when the early engineers in Chicago and elsewhere com: 
menced to develop the foundations we are discussing, they had 
advanced little beyond the engineers of the Renaissance, and as 
in other great problems in which they were groping, the trial 
and error method was about their only guide. I have spoken of 
the “‘spread”’ or “‘floating’”’ foundations used in Chicago and 
elsewhere, but there was considerable pile-driving too. The 
practicable limit of length of a driven pile is about eighty feet. 
Straight trees of the necessary thickness do not grow much 
taller; and even if they did, pile-driving equipment to handle. 
them is impracticable at such lengths. We have seen that in 
Chicago, under these pioneer skyscrapers, the hard-pan or rock 
is from seventy-five to a hundred feet down, and piles of that 
great length cost excessively. So the early assumptions when 
piles were used turned on the friction the pile would exert on 
the ground into which it was driven. As each pile was pounded 
down by the familiar old device of a great iron weight hoisted 
to the top of a tall ladder-like structure called the “ways” and 
allowed to fall with a terrific thud on the pile, capped and held 


in position at the bottom of the ways, the “penetration” was 


FOUNDATIONS OF VARIOUS SORTS 141 


noted; that is, the amount the pile sank under the impact of 
each blow. Theories sprang up and a pseudo science of pile 
friction was devised. But alas, buildings had an unhappy way 
of settling where these formule came anywhere near the mar- 
gin of safety. There was, of course, and still is a scientific basis 
for the resistance a pile will offer, but the reductio ad absurdum 
used by some of these early engineers to justify pile installa- 
tions of short, and therefore inexpensive, lengths, depending 
largely on “skin friction” to support sizable structures, led to 
great disillusionments and a general discrediting of the method 
as it was then applied. 

Whatever has been said of the skimping methods and theo- 
ries 1s not to be construed as any criticism of the proper use of 
wood piles. Where hard-pan or rock can be reached and the 
piles cut off and capped below the permanent ground-water 
level, we have in wood piles one of the soundest and most de- 
pendable foundations. A sound pile, twelve to fourteen inches 
at the butt, driven to “refusal,” 1. e., where it refuses to pene- 
trate farther under a given hammer impact, is as scientifically 
sound an element of foundation as any we know. Such a pile 
is good for fifteen to twenty tons of superimposed weight. 
Therefore, a column footing bearing, say, six hundred tons 
may be constructed of a group of thirty to forty such piles, 
capped with a bed of concrete, and may be compared to the 
strength of a sturdy table with a heavy stone top; but unlike the 
ordinary table, this one has from thirty to forty legs, and 
packed around those legs is a heavily compressed bed of sand, 
clay or even muck—whatever the substance through which the 
piles have been driven—to give lateral stability to the footing 
so built. 

Shortly after the war I had to do with the erection of some 
large buildings in Japan. There we had occasion to use wood 
piles in the foundation. The soil of Tokio was ideal for the use 
of wood piles, being saturated at all times by the ground water 


142 SKYSCRAPERS 


from the tides; for an absolute prerequisite for the use of wood 
piles is that, when completed, the pile foundation must there- 
after forever be submerged. So we imported great piles from 
Oregon and drove them sixty or seventy feet through the soft 
alluvial bottom of Tokio to hard-pan. These piles were in 
groups of the proper number under each column footing, and 
as is always the case, were cut off below the ground water level 
and then capped with blocks of concrete. Earthquake proof? 
Perhaps. At least they weathered the great quake in September, 
1923. 

In the West, the skyscraper builders have developed a 
unique and indeed wonderful form called the “ open caisson,” 
adapted especially to the soil conditions found in and about 
Chicago, and some of the cities along the Great Lakes. There 
the soil formation consists of a loose, wet muck and quick- 
sand on the top to a depth of ten to twenty feet, then a stra- 
tum of dense blue clay that grows harder and denser as the 
depth increases. The process consists of nothing more than sink- 
ing wells, anywhere from six to ten feet or larger in diameter, 
according to the engineering requirements, one for each col- 
umn of the skyscraper to be built. Through the first twenty feet 
or so it is tough going, with water and muck, and sometimes 
quicksand to contend with, but we do it with short plank, like 
straight barrel staves, about five feet long. The men dig a hole 
in the exactly determined location, stand up these staves,— 
“lagging” it is called,—have ready collapsible iron rings that 
are sprung into place on the inside of the cylindrical hole so 
formed to resist the inward pressure on the lagging. These rings 
correspond to barrel hoops, but are located inside instead of 
outside. The tendency is for the earth to crush the caisson so 
formed, and the iron rings prevent this. Having set one section 
of lagging, well braced, another five feet or so is dug and an- 
other circle of lagging with the supporting rings is set and se- 
cured. The operation is repeated, down, down, down, until a 


i 
5 
# 


Courtesy of Underpinning & Foundation Co., Inc. 


After a tube has been driven a certain depth, a blast 

of air under pressure of 100 pounds per square inch 

is suddenly released. The explosion forces the material 
within the tube out of it. 


Courtesy of the Foundation Co. 


Courtesy of George A. Fuller Co. 


An open caisson with interlocking edges of stee! sheet 

piling. They are made in various lengths, and when 

driven, present a continuous barrier against quick- 

sand and water. Such a cofferdam is cross-braced at 

intervals as it is driven, and the material excavated 
from the inside. 


The enormous supply of compressed air necessary for a large caisson job is indicated by the machinery shown 
above. This plant was temporarily on the iob for the American Telephone Company Building, New York. 


144 SKYSCRAPERS 


deep well, eighty to a hundred feet, is constructed,—a series of 
straight-staved barrels one on another, but without heads, thus 
forming a deep well. When suitable bottom is reached, concrete 
is sent down in buckets and the well is filled, making a solid 
column of concrete from extreme bottom to the proper height 
where it comes up to receive the column base, generally just 
under the basement floor level. The thing that makes all this 
possible is the stratum of hard blue clay which is impervious to 
water; indeed, water has to be sent down to lubricate the 
shovels of the diggers. The water in the soil at the top two or 
three sections of lagging is excluded by caulking the joints, 
thus sealing them; a tedious operation and one that could not 
be made effective without the bottom-sealing effect of the blue 
clay which prevails through the lower and greater part of the 
operation. 

If we are watching a Chicago skyscraper operation, we may 
see a curiosity that may even seem amusing. One whole area 
of the site, perhaps all of it, seems to be unusually well 
planked over, with small, framelike arrangements placed about 
over this area in surprisingly regular rows and covered with 
little tents, for rain must be kept out of these operations. Con- 
necting these frames there is a continuous rope or belt driven 
from an engine or motor and engaging a pulley at each frame. 
And on the shaft of each is a small winch or “niggerhead” 
that looks like a steel spool. Wrapped a few turns around this 
spool, but with the spool running freely in it, is a manilla rope 
attended by a watchful man, who seems very much interested 
in peering down into a hole about two feet square under the 
centre of the frame on which this pulley and spool operate. At 
a signal from below, the man tightens his pull on the now 
idle rope, and immediately it commences to take hold, to wind 
up on the engaged niggerhead. It is a principle of friction as 
old as mechanics and still as useful as when it was first applied. 
What is happening is that each of these little frames is the 


ee 


FOUNDATIONS OF VARIOUS SORTS 145 


heading of a deep open caisson. The man controlling the rope 
is looking into a well, brilliantly lighted with electric lamps at 
intervals of its depth. His signal from below announces that 
a dirt bucket has been filled, and up it comes, 1s swung aside 
and unceremoniously dumped on the platform, where the waste 
material is gathered by a passing wheelbarrow-man serving a 
number of such holes. The bucket is as unceremoniously low- 
ered by the attendant paying out on the slack rope in his hand, 
the niggerhead turning on unconcernedly in its uninterrupted 
trundling, day in and day out, until the caissons are finished 
and the little rig borne off, perhaps to serve on some other 
waiting job, where again this set of rigs takes up another task 
of pulling deep cores of clay out of the foundation of the city, 
that stronger foundations of concrete may fill these holes and 
thereby make stable a mighty skyscraper. 

Engineers are a proverbially dissatisfied lot and are everlast- 
ingly trying out new ways of accomplishing things around 
buildings. This Chicago method of open caissons was made 
possible, as has been said, by the underlying stratum of blue 
clay. The ease of the method has prompted excursions by 
foundation engineers into other soils, not so tractable, but 
a way has been found in many cases to make them sur- 
render. 

Take quicksand, for example; a most treacherous and un- 
stable material with an evil reputation from time immemorial. 
Now, quicksand is just a very fine sand with an admixture of 
mica, pyrites and other light, sandy substances which, when satu- 
rated with water, has the property of giving way under any con- 
siderable weight placed upon a part of its surface. The weight 
slowly sinks into the quicksand. The fineness of the sand, to- 
gether with the buoyancy of the schist, creates a condition 
where every particle is surrounded by water and the aggregate 
is, in effect, a liquid. Where the particles are larger and sharp- 
er, they touch and interlock with each other, and we have the 


146 SKYSCRAPERS 


common phenomenon of a non-liquid aggregate such as is to 
be found at the sea and lake beaches. 

Dangerous and treacherous as quicksand is, there is a lot of 
solemn nonsense about its unconquerability that has chal- 
lenged engineers to conquer it. The Chicago caisson was the 
bait, for quicksand without water is as stable as any other 
sand. Thus, under some very important structures, founda- 
tions in the past few years have been built in and through this 
supposedly impossible material by the simple expedient of first 
sending down drain pits ahead of the pier excavations. These 
pits must be skilfully constructed so as to admit the water, yet 
exclude the fine particles of sand. Connected with these pits 
are pumps that have capacity to pump out all the water that 
runs into the pits, and these pumps must be kept running 
night and day until the foundations are finished. Two or three 
of these in a lot of the average size will draw off the allied 
water and leave the refractory sand tame and tractable. With 
the water drawn off, the open caisson can be used, of course — 
with modifications of method to suit the material encount- 
ered. | 

The thing is not quite as easy as it has just been described 
to be, and only skilful and experienced engineers are to be 
trusted with it. For example, the most careful reconnaissance 
and soil examination must be made, with tests and borings so 
that the bed-rock or hard-pan will be there just where it is ex- 
pected to be. It must be known whether the bed is extensive or 
simply a local pocket, and whether it overlies a fairly level and 
homogencous hard material. Generally steel sheet-piling sur- 
rounding the whole area of the building must be driven, the 
lower edges either sealing into the underlying bed or other- 
wise insuring that, with the drain pits constructed, they will 
surely take care of all the water, and particularly the danger 
that arises from the surging upward thrust of an unexpected 


FOUNDATIONS OF VARIOUS SORTS 147 


flow of water from below, perhaps from crevices in the rock 
or hard-pan. 

So it is seen that foundation engineering is something more 
than mere technical training. For the design of superstruc- 
tures, such training can often be used with a modicum of ex- 
perience added, but in foundations for great skyscrapers we 
must look for the top-notchers, the men of technical training 
and wide experience in the application of their ideas, and, 
with these qualifications, the quintessence of all values in hu- 
man knowledge—abundant common sense. 

Concrete piles are an adaptation of the principles of rein- 
forced concrete to pile making. Many of the limitations of 
wood piles are obviated by these useful devices. Structurally, 
a concrete pile is a combination of cement and reinforcing 
rods and hoops so placed as to give maximum strength and 
stability to the finished member. Cast and allowed to harden, 
they are driven much as wood piles are driven. They are, of 
course, indestructible and do not depend on any particular 
water level for their permanence and, being vastly stronger 
than wood, greater weights may be imposed upon them. Like 
wood piles, they are the surest when they can be driven to 
hard-pan or rock, and also like wood piles, they are not to be 
used where the soil through which they are driven contains 
boulders which deflect and break them before they can reach 
sure bottom. Concrete piles over a hundred feet in length have 
been cast and driven. 

An interesting form of pile foundation 1s the Raymond Con- 
crete Pile. This is generally used where rock or hard-pan 1s 
very deep and where the increasing density of the soil warrants 
reliance upon the skin friction of the pile. These piles may be 
made as long as thirty-five to forty feet. The ingenious prin- 
ciple involved is the making of a series of tapered casings of 
thin sheet iron with a spiral “hooping” within the casing, 


148 SKYSCRAPERS 


which serves both as an element of rigidity in the empty cas- 
ing, and also as hooping in the concrete with which the pile 
is later to be filled. 

The driving is done by means of a driver of sufficient height 
to permit of starting the pile at its extreme length. The actual 
driving is done by a trip-hammer, which “‘rides”’ the pile down. 
The operation is started by raising a heavy, collapsible steel 
mandrel or pile core high up into the guides on which the sec- 
tions of casing are slipped from the bottom. The mandrel is 
tapered, and therefore, the largest section of the casing is 
slipped on first. This is done by the simple means of a little 
tackle from the top of the guides which jerks the casings up in 
place, the tapering sections being slipped on quickly in succes- 
sion. The mandrel is thus covered with the sheet-iron cine 
with its hooping in it. 

Now the pile driving starts. The first few blows generally 
seat the pile, as the upper stratum of earth is apt to be soft, and 
from there down, the pile is swiftly driven, the trip-hammer 
following the pile down in the guides of the pile-driver. As the 
end of the pile reaches the hard material, some twenty to thirty 
feet below the surface, the penetration of each blow of the ham- 
mer becomes less and less, and finally the pile comes to “re- 
fusal.’’ Now the tapered core of the collapsible steel mandrel is 
withdrawn about a foot, which of course loosens the sections of 
the mandrel so that it is loose within the casing. It is immedi- 
ately hoisted out, and we have a completely cased hole of the 
desired depth and into hard soil. This is then filled with con- 
crete, and within a few minutes after the driving is started, we 
have a concrete pile which only awaits the setting of the ce- 
ment to make it a hard, indestructible and thoroughly ade- 
quate element of the foundation. 

The pile-driver on heavy rollers is easily shifted from place 
to place and can be accurately adjusted to position for driving 
each pile in its determined location. 


FOUNDATIONS OF VARIOUS SORTS 149 


A group of these piles, as of piles of any other form, when 
capped becomes a column or wall foundation. The penetra- 
tion of the piles under the last few blows of the hammer, to- 
gether with their known skin-friction, gives an accurate basis 
for determining the carrying capacity of the group. The 
method produces as permanent and sure a foundation as any 
other when properly directed by skilful engineers. 

Steel tubes for foundation work have been wonderfully de- 
veloped and have solved for the engineer a number of very 
troublesome problems. Where the soil contains not too many 
boulders and where hard-pan or rock may be reached with 
reasonable certainty within fifty feet or so, tubes are driven in 
clusters much as wood or concrete piles would be, but im- 
provement in the method of driving it has made tubing pos- 
sible. Reference has been made to the old fashioned gravity 
pile-driver that raised its great weight and let it fall with a 
thud on the pile. That kind of driving is no longer seen 
around a metropolitan skyscraper foundation. Instead, we 
have the steam or pneumatic trip-hammer. It is a heavy en- 
gine-like device that rides on the head of the pile or tube to 
be driven, and can be recognized by its rapid, staccato pound- 
ing as it carries down the member it is driving. Its aggregate 
impact per minute is more than that of the laborious old pile- 
driver hammer, but the impact is distributed and we avoid the 
bursting force of the single, irresistible blow of the old weight. 

In a tube foundation, the tubes are accurately set as piles 
would be; then the driving starts and the tube penetrates, say, 
ten feet or so. The tube is twelve to sixteen inches inside di- 
ameter, according to the requirement of the operation in hand. 
As soon as the driving resistance for the tube halts its down- 
ward progress, the driver is removed to one side and the der- 
rick drops into the driven tube another tube about fifteen feet 
long, of a size to slide in freely. This inner tube, sometimes 
called the agitator, has connected with its top a small three- 


150 SKYSCRAPERS 


inch pipe which again can be passed down inside of it, and 
connected with the upper end of the three-inch pipe is a hose 
leading to a large tank of compressed air, kept at about a hun- 
dred pounds pressure by a compressor generally located on the 
street or in some place out of the way of the foundation work. 
The agitator looks like a very long bucket, the bail of which 
is held by the fall of the derrick. The bucket is, of course, 
bottomless. The derrick now commences to pump the agitator 
tube up and down, and as it strikes bottom in the driven tube, 
a man at the control air valve opens it suddenly, thus causing 
almost an explosion in the agitated earth within the tube. The 
effect is to send a perfect geyser of mud and earth flying up 
out of the agitator tube. Up and down the derrick jumps this 
tube and the effect is to clear the driven tube of everything 
inside of it. Again the driving and again the clearing process 
goes on. As the driven tube goes down, there is frequent in- 
spection of the bottom of the hole as fast as it is cleared by 
the air jets. This is done by the simple device of dropping an 
electric light down inside the driven tube where the character 
of the soil may easily be observed. When the driven tubes 
strike rock or the predetermined kind of bearing, they are 
cleaned out for the last time, the bottom inspected, and if 
found satisfactory, they are ready for concrete. The prede- 
termined number of these tubes having been driven for a 
given footing, the projecting upper ends of the tubes are cut 
off by an oxy-acetylene gas torch to the desired length, and the 
driven tubes are filled with concrete. Thus we have a number 
of solid columns of concrete, each surrounded by a steel cas- 
ing, extending from rock to the under side of the fundation 
block. The groups of tubes are capped with a single block, as 
in the case of either wood or concrete pile groups. The rock 
or hard-pan is seldom level, hence the varying lengths of the 
driven tubes and the necessity for cutting the tops to an even 
level to receive the footing cap. 


FOUNDATIONS OF VARIOUS SORTS 151 


Sometimes these tubes encounter boulders on the way down, 
and if these cannot be broken up by the agitator, there is noth- 
ing left to do but dig down beside the tube and remove the 
boulder by derrick, if it be of moderate size; if it be large, it 
must be drilled and blasted. For this reason it is important 
to know by preliminary borings and tests whether a bouldery 
soil is to be encountered. lf boulders appear to be too numer- 
ous, it is almost sure to be more economical to go to some 
different method of foundation, for digging for boulders is an 
expensive procedure. , 

This tube method is more useful in underpinning adjoin- 
ing buildings, for it can be done with such little head room 
and in such cramped quarters. It has become the most general 
method for this adjoining work, and even when pneumatic 
caissons are used in the foundations of the new building, the 
adjoining ones are frequently underpinned with tubes. In 
such cases, where it is not possible to get headroom even for a 
pneumatic hammer, tubes are used, jacking them down in 
short sections and using the old wall as a base against which 
the powerful jacks press the tubes downward. Special tools are 
used to clear the inside of the tubes. As each section is jacked 
down and cleared, another section is placed on top of it and 
the process repeated until the desired bottom is reached. The 
couplings used between sections are ingenious internal sleeves, 
the use of which avoids the necessity of outside couplings such 
as would be found in ordinary pipe work. One after another 
these tubes are placed, the work going on at several places 
along the wall simultaneously, until the entire old foundation 
is caught up on a large number of tubes and the old structure 
secured at the new depth. If the soil beyond the old founda- 
tions tends to cave in, horizontal sheet piling is driven in be- 
hind the tubes, which will retain almost any kind of soil but 
quicksand. When this is encountered, special ways and means 
must be devised, and it may result in the necessity of under- 


152 SKYSCRAPERS 


pinning two or more rows of footings of the old building be- 
fore the new foundation can proceed with safety. 

The steel tube foundation, whether for underpinning or for 
new foundations, has been a wonderful forward stride in the 
everlasting foundation problem. One of its variations has been 
the development of the “pretest” foundation, an ingenuity 
that could only have been developed out of the complexity of 
modern skyscraper requirements of swift operation in the very 
limited and cramped quarters that the building site usually 
affords. . 

The pretest pile is an adaptation of the tube where it is de- 
sired to use the weight of the rising structure in course of erec- 
tion, thus enabling the work of superstructure actually to pre- 
cede the building of the foundations themselves. The work is 
carried on by starting the concrete bed of a predetermined 
size at the grade and in the exact position that would be in- 
dicated for a capping of any group of piles. The column base 
and columns are set on this in the usual way as steel erection 
commences. As the load accumulates, say seven or eight sto- 
ries of the building, excavation is made under a part of this 
prepared concrete bed, and in a little temporary chamber there 
constructed, with about four feet of headroom, powerfully hy- 
draulic jacks are set up. A short section of steel tube three or 
four feet long is set down into the ground just as an ordinary 
tube would be started. These are pressed down, one on top of 
another, the interior being cleared out as the pile is sunk, just 
as would be done in the case of a steel tube in the open. When 
this composite and now continuous tube has reached the de- 
sired bottom, it is filled with concrete and capped, and the 
pressure which the jack has been exerting against the under 
side of the footing is taken up by a permanent section of steel 
I beam or other heavy member securely wedged. The pres- 
sure on this pile when completed is accurately noted through a 
pressure gauge on the hydraulic jack, and since it is to be one 


FOUNDATIONS OF VARIOUS SORTS 153 


of a group of, let us say, ten under this particular column, 
with the ultimate load on the column accurately determined, 
it is a simple matter to load on this single pile more than it 
ultimately will carry as a part of the group. 

Having thus driven one pile, another and another are driven, 
each one carried to the desired bottom and each one tested to 
an overload. Thus, the accumulated carrying capacity of the 
group of ten has been established by pretesting it, one pile at 
a time, and the combined carrying capacity of all of them to- 
gether is in excess of the ultimate loading of the column. It 
is customary to load each pretest pile to about fifty per cent 
over the estimated requirement and thus a combined pretest 
footing will be, in the aggregate, fifty per cent over the re- 
quirement—a perfectly safe and highly ingenious foundation. 

Of course, in order to carry out this method, there are cer- 
tain prerequisites. The soil on which the original concrete base 
was laid must be secure enough to carry the partial load of the 
structure before the pretest operation starts. However, even in 
such cases, this pretest work has been done by actually build- 
ing the working chamber in advance of the footing block, 
making it on a concrete form much as a floor arch is made. 
This block, with the hollow chamber under it, rests its outside 
edge on the ground and on the water-tight sheet piling form- 
ing the chamber, much as a saucer might set on a cup. Here 
the short pretest sections are set up, even before two stories of 
steel have been set. All that 1s required is enough superim- 
posed weight to exceed the loading that will be required on a 
single pile. In this case the jacking down is simply started 
earlier, and as fast as the weight above accumulates, new pre- 
test tubes are started until the ultimate number under that 
footing has been completed. 

The invention and use of steel sheet piling has contributed 
as much as any one thing to the solution of the deep and difh- 
cult foundation problem. In the earlier and simpler founda- 


154 SKYSCRAPERS 


tions, it was common practice to drive sharpened plank be- 
hind wales to hold the earth. But if the earth were wet and 
soluble, it was soon found that it ran through the crevices be- 
tween the planking. Then tongue and grooved sheeting was 
introduced with some success, but leaving much to be desired. 
Both methods were very limited because the plank of either 
type would be battered to pieces at the top before the driv- 
ing proceeded ten feet or more. All sorts of caps and heads 
were devised, but the uncertainty remained—one plank might 
drive ten or twelve feet, the next one split at half the 
depth. 

Steel sheet piling could be made in any desired length; it 
was tough, and the ingeniously locked edges furnished both 
a guide and a bond for each succeeding piece as it was driven. 
The trip-hammer principle of driving, introduced at about 
the same time, was ideal for this new material, and at once 
deep sheet piling immeasurably simplified deep foundation 
work. One of its greatest advantages is that it is almost auto- 
matically self-sealing. Trickling sand and saturated earth drip- 
ping through the joints leave deposits which, in a few hours, 
seal the joints, and we thus may have a continuous and im- 
pervious sheet of steel driven to almost any desired bottom be- 
fore the excavation is fairly under way. Properly braced with 
wales and shores, as would be any other form of sheeting, it — 
almost ideally fills a requirement without which many a deep 
foundation would have to be abandoned as designed, and 
some vastly more expensive method of coping with the wet, 
unstable soils devised. 

The spectacle of a great building structure going up before 
the basement is excavated is not uncommon, especially in cities 
of the West, where a homogeneous soil and the open caisson 
foundation make it sometimes inconvenient to carry on the 
excavation work while the caissons are being sunk. When this 
procedure is followed, the builder disturbs the soil as little as 


FOUNDATIONS OF VARIOUS SORTS 155 


possible. He builds retaining walls in trenches, thus using the 
existing earth to brace the sheeting that holds the streets. 
Similarly, the adjoining underpinning is done in trenches, and 
all the while the caisson wells are being sunk. If the basement 
is to be a deep one, with ground water to contend with, the 
retaining walls are water-proofed as they are built and the 
membrane of water-proofing carried through under the wall. 
This is done by first laying the footing of the wall, which 
generally is constructed with a ridge of concrete along its 
centre, something after the manner of the tongue on the edge 
of a tongue and grooved plank. The trench for the wall is 
dug about a foot beyond the line of the outside face of the re- 
taining wall, or if it is sheet piled, the wales and sheeting are 
so placed as to leave absolutely unobstructed a space of about 
a foot outside the wall. Having finished the wall footing with 
its ridge or “key,” a wall of hollow tile is laid, the inside face 
of which forms the outside face of the retaining wall. Before 
the retaining wall is started, a membrane of hot tar and tar 
paper—roofing felt—generally five-ply, is laid over the foot- 
ing with a projection of about a foot inside the inside face of 
the wall. This same membrane is carried up the inner face of 
the hollow tile, somewhat as a paper-hanger papers a wall. 
When this work has been finished to a convenient height, the 
concrete form at the line of the inside of the wall is set and the 
concrete is poured to a level about a foot below the top of the 
membrane, the tile wall with the membrane on it forming the 
outside form. Again the hollow tile is laid up scaffold high, 
again the tar and felt, and again the concrete, until the work 
is up to grade. The effect of this is to form a continuous mem-_ 
brane on the outside of the retaining wall and under it, with a 
foot or so protruding into the basement, to which will be at- 
tached the continuation of this same membrane under the 
basement floor when it is finally laid. Similarly, the mem- 

brane to the top of the wall is so devised that, when the side- 


156 SKYSCRAPERS 


walk structure is set, the membrane can be joined to the 
water-proofing membrane that will underlie the sidewalk. As 
the caissons are finished and concreted, the membrane is car- 
ried under the grillage-bed or column base, with edges of a 
foot or so to be joined with the future basement floor mem- 
brane. Under these columns where the concentrated loading 
is so great, the membrane takes the form of copper pans or 
sheets, carefully soldered and sealed. 

We have noted the key on the foundation of the retaining 
wall. This acts as a brace to keep the wall from sliding inward 
when the pressure of the bank from the outside comes on the 
wall, for the membrane, of course, prevents any bond between 
the retaining wall and its footing. This process of constructing 
the membrane in a number of places, all eventually to be 
joined together, is carried on whether the excavation is com- 
pleted before steel erection starts, or after. The effect in either 
case is the same. As the basement floor is prepared, a section 
at a time, this membrane construction is laid on a bed of con- 
crete placed to receive it, and upon the membrane, the body 
of the basement floor structure is laid. From each section pro- 
trudes the necessary lap of the membrane, and when the work 
is completed, the effect is a continuous sheet of everlasting 
membranous water-proofing, from a point about a foot high 
back of the water table of granite or marble on the building 
line at the street level, out over the sidewalk, down the out- 
side face of the retaining wall and under it; joining with a 
continuous sheet underlying the basement floor and columns 
and up to the height of the ground floor on the outside of the 
rear walls. Thus the basement is sealed as tight as a ship’s 
bottom against seeping water, the membrane buried behind 
the protecting concrete of the basement floor and wall struc- 
ture. 

With the membrane thus completed, it is common practice 
to have in the lowest basement, generally the boiler room, a 


FOUNDATIONS OF VARIOUS SORTS 157 


sump or cistern dug six to ten feet below the floor level. This 
membrane passes over the upper wall of the sump and is 
sealed to the curb around the sump. In the soil under the con- 
crete slab on which the membrane was laid are numerous lines 
of agricultural drain tile that radiate in all directions from the 
sump and slope slightly toward it. The ground water strikes 
these drains and flows to the sump, and pumps that start auto- 
matically as soon as a certain predetermined water level in the 
sump is reached, lift this water out to the sewer. In this way, 
the upward pressure on the basement floor is relieved. If the 
pumps fail to work for any reason, the water simply overflows 
the sump and the basement floors, but the water-proofing 
membrane is not subjected to pressure from beneath. 

When sumps are not used and the water pressure is consid- 
erable, it then becomes necessary to reinforce the floor struc- 
ture overlying the membrane. Sometimes this calls for a con- 
crete overstructure two to three feet thick, and then rein- 
forced rods,—a reverse reinforced arch construction. A sealed 
basement of this kind forty feet below ground water level will 
receive an upward thrust of nearly eighteen pounds to the 
square inch. A little calculating of the aggregate upward pres- 
sure on a basement of, say, ten thousand square feet, will in- 
dicate the tremendous force that must be neutralized if the 
sump is omitted. 

There is a method of excluding water from basements by 
plastering the inside of the basement walls and floor with an 
impervious coating of water-proofed cement, which takes 
hold of the masonry with such tenacity as to become integral 
with it. Such a system must likewise be continuous, but in- 
stead of passing under the columns, it carries up on the out- 
side of the surrounding masonry with which the columns are 
fire-proofed; generally they are encased in concrete to receive 
this water-proofing. In this method, columns are in effect 
standing in sleeves of water-proofing themselves—theoretically, 


158 SKYSCRAPERS 


at least—standing in the saturated concrete that encases 
them. 

Returning to the excavation problem that is sometimes met 
by taking out the general basement earth after the structural 
steel has been set and the retaining walls built, it has the great 
advantage of requiring a minimum of shoring and bracing. 
As we have seen, the streets are temporarily braced against 
the opposite bank of a trench, and the problem of interior 
shoring,. where there are different basement levels, is much 
simplified. When this method is followed, columns are low- 
ered into place virtually in pits, and field engineering to set 
the column bases is most difficult, but skilful builders find no 
trouble in doing this. The columns having been set, the floor 
beams are placed and sometimes the floor arches filled in. In 
this way, the permanent bracing of the retaining walls is 
effected without the intermediate steps of shoring and brac- 
ing. After the steel has been set, the excavation proceeds, 
sometimes by means of specially designed, low-headroom, 
power shovels, sometimes by hand loading. Whatever the 
method, provision for this post-construction excavation has 
been carefully thought out by the builder, and whether he 
makes provision for bringing trucks directly into the excava- 
tion or hoists the material out by derrick or hoistway, the re- 
sult is that the superstructure proceeds while the excavation is 
being finished. The character of the soil, the expediency and 
the imminence of steel delivery all have a bearing. It is one of 
the complexities of the builder’s problem, and to say that it 
is sometimes done is all that can be said as to why it is 
done. 

I remember one deep foundation we had to put in, where 
we were obliged to go down through the floor of a large en- 
gine-room. The engine had to be kept running to generate 
electricity for a great existing skyscraper to which we were 
adding. The engine and dynamo were on a heavy bed of con- 


FOUNDATIONS OF VARIOUS SORTS 159 


crete about ten feet thick, and a part of this had to be cut 
away to let the new steel column pass beside it to the new 
deeper footing. Water unlimited flowed in the gravelly soil 
below the engine bed. And there we worked night and day, 
sinking the steel sheet piling of a cofferdam in that engine- 
room floor, within a few feet of the fast flying crosshead of 
that great machine as it whirled back and forth, the dynamo 
delivering uninterruptedly its vast power output without so 
much as dust from our work interfering. When at last we 
reached hard-pan thirty feet below and commenced placing 
the concrete, we felt the elation of a battalion commander 
who had carried a redout and signalled the regiment to fol- 
low. Then came the job of setting the base for the column— 
as nice a piece of field engineering as was ever done; and 
when the great steel column, weighing about ten tons, was 
gently lowered into place and bolted to the base and found to 
be exactly in position with respect to all the other columns, 
we knew we had won a great victory of peace—the accom- 
plishment which makes us know that building is an inspiring 
calling. The column stands to-day in that basement engine- 
room, with others, looking like the pillars of Hercules; but to 
an intrepid band of workers, it is the monument of a great 
victory. 

And so we have discussed at great length the matter of 
foundations, for foundations are all important in skyscraper 
construction, and were it not for the labors and ingenuity of 
those pioneer engineers and builders in devising safe and sure 
foundations, the height limit would long ago have been set 
by the limitations of the old-fashioned footings. Again we 
must say that this development is one of our own creating, de- 
vised to meet the needs of our most characteristic American 
accomplishment—our beloved skyscraper. All of this is the 
work of the builder; digging down into the depths to build 
the mighty foundations that he may turn back and, with his 


160 SKYSCRAPERS 


skyscraper, conquer the towering heights. “Laying a good 
foundation” is the metaphor universally used. It connotes the 
proper starting of any good creative effort, and from the build- 
er the metaphor is learned. 


Couriesy of Thos. Crimmins Contracting Co. 


A caisson job where there is little space for concrete mixing. Concrete being delivered 
by special revolving-drum truck which keeps the concrete mixing as it moves through 
the streets. 


CHAPTER XIV 
STRUCTURAL STEEL IN THE MAKING 


Wuite all this activity of foundation building at the site is 
going on, a hundred things are happening in the office of the 
skyscraper builder. The structural steel has been ordered, and 
shop drawings by the ream are being approved and blue- 
prints of them forwarded to the bridge shop, where men 
translate them into completed structural members. The bridge 
shop has furnished the rolling mill with lists of plain shapes 
and sizes cut to accurate lengths, and it is the business of the 
bridge shop to take these plain pieces, punch them, rivet on 
the lugs, build up the columns and girders; all exactly in ac- 
cordance with the shop drawings. As the pieces are finished, 
they are marked and numbered in accordance with the setting 
plans, prepared by the structural engineer as the common 
guide for all concerned in the design and erection of the steel. 
For the structural steel is the pivot around which the whole 
superstructure of the skyscraper under construction turns. Ex- 
cavation and foundation are timed to the delivery date of the 
steel, and all plans for enclosing the building must depend on 
the steel erection. 

It may be of interest, before watching this, the most spec- 
tacular of the operations of building, to make a brief excursion 
into the steel mills and see how steel is made, and into the 
bridge shops and see how it is fabricated, that we may better 
appreciate the wonderful development that this national de- 
mand for great structures has brought about. For it is true that 
our national genius for construction, which has no parallel in 
all history that can even remotely approach it, has largely been 
made possible by the amazing perfection and unlimited ca- 
pacity for production with which the steel industry has led the 
way. Construction and steel production are inseparably linked; 

161 


162 SKYSCRAPERS 


neither would have been possible without the other, for the 
demands of the one furnished the incentive for the colossal 
scale upon which the other has been developed. 

Without attempting to start too far back, we will begin with 
the blast furnaces at the Bethlehem Steel Company, where the 
base ore receives its purifying with a proper mixture of lime- 
stone, manganese and other ingredients that the metallurgists 
know, for these ingredients are the scavengers that free the 
molten metal from impurities, sulphur, excessive carbon and 
the like. The tremendous and continuous heat of the blast fur- 
nace is furnished by coke with an unbelievable amount of air 
blown through it in order to furnish the excess of oxygen neces- 
sary to produce the heat. The ore, limestone, manganese, coke, 
all are piled in the furnaces and ignited, and after several hours 
of furious heat, the molten mass is drawn off and cast into pigs 
—pig-iron. The pig-iron goes to the open hearth furnaces, 
where it is again melted and receives the final purifying and the 
ingredients that give it the desired metallurgical properties of 
steel. 

In the great modern steel plants, each of these open hearth 
furnaces produces about eighty tons of steel at a single heat, 
and the temperature maintained in them is nearly three thou- 
sand degrees Fahrenheit. These furnaces are in a row down the 
length of the great shed by which they are enclosed, and along 
this interior, in front of the furnaces, runs a heavy crane-way 
with cranes of prodigious lifting power. The heat being ready 
for “drawing,” a spout is opened in the side of the furnace, a 
great ladle having first been placed in position by the crane to 
receive the flow of metal as it pours out of the furnace. There 
another receptacle is placed alongside and so arranged that a 
spout from the top of the molten mass will carry off the lighter 
material, the molten slag from the top of the great stream of 
metal. The slag itself has valuable uses, but we will not follow 
them here beyond saying that it furnishes one of the necessary 


The filled ladle is about to be raised by the huge crane. The lift is about 100 tons. The thimble-shaped vessel 
on the side receives the molten slag, which, being lighter than the metal, can be drawn off by a separate spout 
from the flux as it pours out of the furnace. 


Courtesy of Bethlehem Steel Co. 


164 SKYSCRAPERS 


ingredients of Portland cement—that equally indispensable 
need of modern construction. 

The ladle having been filled, the crane raises it and whisks it 
away as though it were out of the power of gravitation, although 
it carries a burden of eighty tons of molten metal. Arranged 
down the shed on specially constructed cars are great moulds 
the shape of a billet, for the metal 1s now on its way to be cast 
into billets of from six to fifteen tons or more each. The crane 
stops over each mould in turn and a gate in the bottom of the 
ladle is opened, filling the mould with molten metal, much as 
a housewife fills a muffin tin. The train-load of moulds having 
been filled is moved away to an adjoining position for the next 
operation, known as stripping. These moulds are slightly ta- 
pered to facilitate this step for, as the metal solidifies into red hot 
billets, the moulds are passed under a crane that carries the strip- 
per—a mighty pair of jaws that engage the lugs on the moulds, 
and while they lift the mould from the billet, they are supple- 
mented by a great plunger that presses down and shoves the 
billet through the mould if it tends to stick, and the red-hot 
billets are left standing on the cars, their moulds stripped off. 
The train-load of red-hot billets is run into another shed and 
again a great crane hovers over them, this time to set them 
- gently into the “soaking” pits. The original steel-makers must 
have had a sense of humor to have devised the name, for soaked 
they are, but with an inferno heat from a roaring gas flame 
that raises and evens the temperature to a point about two hun- 
dred degrees below liquefaction. And now the billets are ready 
for the next operation. 

From here the crane carries the whitetae billets, now thor- 
oughly “soaked,” onto the power-driven rolling bed, and im- 
mediately they start on their way toward the rolls. It is one of 
the great spectacles of industry to see this mighty drama. The 
billet—perhaps ten tons in weight, two feet by three feet across 
and about seven feet long—comes tearing up to the rolls car- 


Stripping ingots. The ingot moulds are lifted from the ingots by the stripping machine. The great plunger 


ugh the moulds, which are slightly tapered to facilitate freeing 


in the stripping machine presses the ingot thro 
the ingots. 


Courtesy of Bethlehem Steel Co. 


166 SKYSCRAPERS 


ried by the whirling, power-driven roller bed on which it 
rides. The rolls themselves are whirling and of prodigious 
power, great spool-like affairs perhaps three feet in diameter, 
one set above and one below, with great bearings thicker than a 
man’s thigh and held ina ponderous frame which admits of an 
adjustment of the rolls closer and closer together as the process 
proceeds. These rolls grab the billet and squeeze it through. 
Similar rolls in a vertical position in the frame are so placed as 
to limit the side spread of the billet as it is squeezed forward. 
Stationed above the rolls in a bridge-like housing and intent- 
ly watching the action, is the roller who guides the operation. 
He and two assistants, one stationed with him, and one sta- 
tioned on a platform beside the machine, control all of its 
movements. As the great billet, still white hot, comes squeez- 
ing through the rolls, the bed rolls are immediately reversed, 
and back it goes to be squeezed again by these same unrelent- 
ing rolls, this time set a trifle closer together by the guiding 
hand on the bridge above. Again the reverse of the bed rolls, 
and again it goes racing through, this time appreciably elon- 
gated. The rolls are about twice as wide as the billet when it 
first came from the soaking pits, and it is noticed that in its 
first few passages back and forth, the rolling is done on one 
side of the rolls, the other side being of considerably larger 
diameter and grooved. Now, as the billet passes through for 
the fourth or fifth time, a surprising movement in the bed of 
the machine makes a great clamp jerk the billet aside, and this 
time it travels back through the part of the rolls with grooves. 
Here the flanges commence to form and the billet begins to 
assume a decided elongation; but the machine is relentless and 
as the great bed rollers hurl the billet back and forth, again 
and again, forcing the now elongated and nearly formed mass 
of steel, it seems fairly to writhe in agony at the gruelling 
process. All unexpectedly to the spectator, the elongated piece, 

now perhaps sixteen inches in cross section each way, and 


The white-hot ingot has started on its journey through the power-driven rolls. Their action and spacing as 
the ingot is hurled back and forth are controlled by the chief roller located in the ‘‘pulpit,” the bridge 
over the rolls. 


Courtesy of Bethlehem Steel Co. 


Here the ingot has about capitulated to the elongating process. The rolled section, in its final form, shoots 
out into the cutting sheds. 


168 SKYSCRAPERS 


twenty feet long, with the depressions that form the web of 
the section we are watching, rushes forward toward the next 
set of rolls, for the first set is done with it and another hot 
billet is waiting. 

As the now elongated billet passes ahead, it runs under a 
mighty shear, also man-controlled, and as its front end goes 
in a few inches, the bed rollers stop and the shear closes, cut- 
ting off the “bloom’”’ end, for in this furious squeezing process, 
the ends have become dog-eared and deformed. Moreover, the 
last of the impurities of the steel are apt to be found where 
they would have floated to the top of the mould when the 
liquid steel was poured in. The shear cuts the white-hot metal 
as neatly as a confectioner cuts a column of hot molasses candy. 
Again the great mass moves forward; again the shear at the 
other end; and on the piece whirls to the next set of rolls, 
where the process of forming it continues by rushing the now 
elongated column or beam back and forth through the rolls 
until it has been given the desired section. The whole action 
takes place in a very few minutes. Perhaps twenty times back 
and forth through the first rolls, then the shearing, and about 
ten times through the final rolls, and on it goes, now about 
seventy-five or eighty feet long, a great cherry-red column, on 
the power rollers, to be cut to length. 

Streams of water pour on the rolls to relieve them of the 
tremendous heat of the white-hot billet as it rushes back and 
forth in its process of formation and elongation. If it is a beam 
section that is being rolled, the great, single piece as it comes 
from the last pass of the rolls may be over a hundred feet long, 
as yet unidentified for any particular structure. But whatever 
the section, its makers are not yet through with it. As it passes 
out of the last rolling, it is hurried on to the straightening 
bed, and the moment it arrives there, the jaws of the straight- 
ener take charge. Here again an operative on a bridge over the 
bed presides and, with true eye, manipulates the jaws so that 


Courtesy of Bethlehem Steel Co. Courtesy of Bethlehem Steel Co. 


A punching operation on steel structural shapes. A close-up view of a riveting operation in fabricating 
steel columns. 


4 


i 
: 
= 
“ 
3 
a 
: 


Courtesy of Bethlehem Steel Co. 


Interior view of bridge and fabricating shop at Bethlehem’s Steelton Plant, Steelton, Pa., showing large 
structural work in course of fabrication. 


170 SKYSCRAPERS 


the now gray-hot member is rendered as straight as a taut 
string. It came into the vise in the horizontal position in which 
it was originally rolled. Another lurch, the vise opens a little 
way again; a quick throw of the straightener, and the great 
snake is stood on edge; in a flash the vise closes again and the 
great, continuous member, only a few minutes ago a white- 
hot billet, is now a full fledged I beam or column section, the 
last of its cherry-red disappeared, the naked gray color of the 
steel preceding its final surrender to the inexorable forces 
that have just fashioned it. 

But on it must travel to make way for others that are fol- 
lowing. The vise opens and kicks the gray steel length out. 
Again the rollers have it and it is passing out to the cutting 
room, still too hot to touch, but in the full power of its new- 
found rigidity, and now very straight and true. In the cutting 
room, still on its bed of rollers, it is passed into the hands of 
the cutters, who hold the rolling lists from the bridge shops. 
Here the seal of its identity with some particular building is 
put upon it, for it is shoved onto a table where great power- 
driven circular saws cut it to the exact lengths that the bridge 
shop orders call for, the exact lengths that some structural en- 
gineer away back in a distant city had worked out as requisite 
to fit in a certain place to be a part of a building that an archi- 
tect with whom the engineer was collaborating had designed. 

The rolling lists contain a large number of pieces of the 
same length and size; those floor beams, for example, that — 
occur panel after panel and floor after floor, all exactly the 
same length and requiring the same shop work. Similarly, the 
girders, heavier members into which the beams frame, may be 
duplicated a number of times, particularly if the building cov- 
ers a considerable area and is on a rectangular lot. As the 
building rises in height, the columns diminish in sections for 
the obvious reason that they do not have to bear the accumu- 
lated load that the columns in the lower stories bear. Hence, 


STRUCTURAL STEEL IN THE MAKING 171 


as the columns diminish, the successive tiers of girders become 
longer by fractions of an inch; they have to reach a little far- 
ther to meet the diminishing column sizes. The precise cal- 
culations of the structural engineer have taken all this into 
account in preparing the shop drawings and the accurately 
checked rolling lists account for every piece. 

And now we have a great pile of floor beams cut to length 
and ready for the bridge shop; the mill is through with them. 

The steel mills roll a great variety of shapes and sizes to 
meet the complex requirements of modern structural design; 
at Bethlehem mills I beams from four to thirty-three inches in 
depth, and in many of these standard depths there will be sev- 
eral different weights per foot. Thus we have 12”—25’s, 12””— 
32S, 12”—40’s, etc., meaning that a given depth of these beams 
may weigh 25, 32, or 40 pounds per linear foot. Besides the 
I beams, there are channels—beams with flanges on only one 
side of the web—angles of all combinations of leg lengths and 
weight per foot; T irons, similarly variable; Z bars, as their 
name implies, having one flange in each direction from the 
web—a seemingly endless variety of shapes, sizes and weight 
per foot. 

An anomaly here arising out of the early independent prac- 
tices of structural and railroad engineers leaves us still with 
railroad rails standardized on the weight per yard, whereas 
all structural steel standardizes on weight per foot. Thus we 
speak of a hundred pound railroad rail, meaning a hundred 
pounds to the linear yard, a very heavy rail, but it compares 
in weight with a structural member that would weigh only 
thirty-three and a third pounds per linear foot. Both are pro- 
duced by the same method of rolling—generally in the same 
mills, and nowadays almost universally of open hearth steel. 

Beams and shapes of various sizes are rolled on the same 
beds, but every shape demands a different set of rolls, and it 
is necessary for the mill to change these rolls whenever the 


172 SKYSCRAPERS 


type of shape to be rolled in a certain bed is changed. The 
changing involves a considerable amount of work during 
which that bed is shut down and unproductive. The most used 
sizes—8”, 9”, 10” and 12” beams, for example—are in 
constant demand, and therefore mill orders for these sizes 
may be filled at almost any time. But for unusual sizes—for 
example, 24” and 30” beams—the mill will await rolling 
until it has accumulated enough orders in these sizes to justify 
setting the rolls, and then produce therefrom a considerable 
tonnage. Hence, we have one of the first anxieties of the build- 
er to see that the rolling lists are delivered as early as possible; 
and if any unusual shapes occur, so to schedule as not to miss 
these special rollings, for it is sometimes several weeks before 
these specials will be rolled again. A day’s delay in delivery 
of a rolling list may sometimes set a steel delivery date back 
six weeks or more. 

The Bethlehem Steel Company, several years ago, devel- 
oped a column rolled in the same manner as beams are rolled. 
Theretofore columns were “built up”; that is, the desired col- 
umn section was produced by combining plates and angles— 
sometimes channels, I beams and Z bars figured in the en- 
semble—and these securely riveted together gave the re- 
quired strength and rigidity. The Bethlehem column does 
away with the necessity for all of this, and we are now able to 
obtain rolled column sections of almost any required strength. 
Where columns of tremendous carrying capacity are required, 
twelve to fifteen hundred tons and more, it is sometimes neces- 
sary to rivet plates even on Bethlehem sections. This is un- — 
usual and the Bethlehem column may easily be recognized 
from the street by its long, smooth shaft, free of rivets, except- 
ing where connections for girders or splice plates occur. Splice 
plates, as the name implies, are those plates generally riveted 
to the top end of the column to connect it to the column above. 
If the succeeding column is of smaller section than the one on 


STRUCTURAL STEEL IN THE MAKING 173 


which it stands, the splice plates carry with them “fillers,” 
1. e. steel plates of a thickness to make up for the diminished 
column section above. 

We follow this plain material into the bridge shop—some- 
times hundreds of miles away, sometimes adjoining the mill, 
—and see the final process before the steel is delivered to the 
building. Here is a place of noisy riveters and clashing ma- 
chinery. The plain material is unloaded from the cars by 
cranes and sorted to benches or beds, where it receives its 
punching. Again the shop drawings control—every rivet hole 
exactly located—every shelf angle and connection noted. Col- 
umns are stiffened by plates and angles, and girder connec- 
tions constructed. If built-up columns or girders are to be fab- 
ricated, long, wooden templates with the holes accurately lo- 
cated are prepared, so that the punching in plain members 
that are to be brought together will exactly “register.”” Beams 
that frame into other beams of the same depth have to be 
“coped,’’—that is, the flange cut away at the ends to allow 
them to slip into end contact with the webs of the beams that 
receive them. Generally speaking, a girder is any beam into 
which another frames for support. Girders are naturally 
heavier as they transfer the accumulated load of several beams 
to the columns or to other still heavier girders. The coping of 
beams generally occurs only on the top flanges, as they nearly 
always frame into girders of greater depth; hence only the 
top flanges are in the same plane. Sometimes engineers en- 
deavor to design the framing so that the top and bottom 
flanges of the beams fall within the web of the girder, thus 
avoiding coping altogether, which effects a saving, for each 
operation—punching, shearing, coping, etc.—bears a charge, 
an “extra” or “‘tariff’’ above the cost of the plain material. It is 
in the economies of fabrication, the efficiency of low cost pro- 
duction, that one bridge shop is able to underbid another. The 
price of the plain material from the mill on any given job is 


174 SKYSCRAPERS 


apt to be about the same to any of several of the leading fabri- 
cating shops. It is the bridge shop that sells the fabricated ma- 
terial to the builder. 

There is no fixed price per ton for fabricated steel in a given 
market, although the public has the erroneous idea that there 
is. A heavy job with a preponderance of heavy straight pieces 
and much duplication will command a much lower price per 
ton than a light, irregular job, particularly when special fram- 
ing occurs, such as complicated sloping roofs, etc. The base 
price in the plain material on both jobs may be the same at 
the mill, but the large amount of fabrication on small and 
light members in the latter runs the cost per ton away up. The 
point must be obvious to the reader and is only brought out to 
show that, without knowing the character of the structural de- 
sign and the relation of the extent of the fabrication to ton- 
nage of any given job, nothing but the most general statement 
as to steel cost can be made about that job. 

The bridge shop fabricates with greatest care, and in the 
seeming disorder of thousands of unassembled pieces lying 
about, from small bits of angle that one might put in one’s 
pocket, to great, ponderous lengths of Bethlehem shapes, the 
work goes through in an orderly way and in accordance with 
the contract requirements of the builder. Every piece is 
marked for its place in the building in accordance with the 
setting plan. If the job covers a large area with several derricks 
needed in the setting, the identifying marks include the num- 
ber of the derrick to which it is to be delivered. The observer 
may notice that if the material comes to the job with a “shop 
coat’ of paint, that paint will leave a spot of bare metal on 
each member around the all-important identifying mark; this 
is because that mark is put on at the fabricating bench, neces- 
sarily before the shop coat of paint is applied. 

Builders and engineers are. frequently asked how it is pos- 
sible for engineers to make these complicated calculations that 


eee ee 


STRUCTURAL STEEL IN THE MAKING 175 


govern the design of a steel skeleton. The answer is that civil 
engineering is an exact and learned science, and no descrip- 
tion such as is here given could hope to compass the subject. 
Mathematics, through calculus and the use of logarithms, 
must be known. Both plain and solid geometry and trigonom- 
etry are used. The science of strength and resistance of ma- 
terials is brought into use and structural designing itself deals 
in such terrifying phrases as bending moments, moduli, radii 
of gyration, sheer stress, elastic limits, parallelograms of forces 
and strain diagrams. 

But we may glimpse a few of the essentials of the simplest 
problem in an endeavor to appreciate what the structural en- 
gineer might do. Take a square table with four legs and load 
it down evenly with a ton of bricks. Obviously, each leg will be 
supporting a quarter of a ton, or five hundred pounds. Put an- 
other table, similarly loaded, squarely on top of it. The legs of 
the upper table will be carrying five hundred pounds each, but 
those of the lower one will now be carrying one thousand 
pounds each. Repeat this ten times and we find the legs of the 
lowest table carrying five thousand pounds each, and each 
succeeding table as we go upward, five hundred pounds less 
than the one below it. If one were designing such a set of 
tables, he would make the legs of the lowest set very strong to 
receive the accumulated load. Now, the table tops would each 
be the same, calculated to support only the ton of weight each 
was intended to carry. If we were designing the composite of 
tables with care, we would simply make four very long legs and 
set the tops in at the proper intervals, and these legs would each 
be tapered toward its top. By making the legs continuous, we 
get a rigidity which the separate tables stacked one on another 
would lack. This rigidity contains the principle of wind-bracing. 

Engineers know what each floor will weigh, taking into 
account the type of floor arch, the thickness of the floor-flll 
above the arch, the probable amount of partitions and, most 


176 SKYSCRAPERS 


important, the “live load;” that is, the weight of the building 
contents—people, material or merchandise. In many cities, 
the required allowance for live load is forty pounds per square 
foot for office-buildings, habitations, etc. From this figure 
there are increased requirements for light storage buildings, 


lofts, etc—one hundred and twenty pounds per square foot is" 


general for this class—and from there up, even greater live 
loading, until we occasionally find heavy warehouses for 
storage of paper, sugar and very heavy, dense commodities, 
running to six hundred pounds and more per square foot. 
Such buildings, if they are tall—say ten stories or more—have 
enormously heavy columns in the lower noes and, of course, 
tremendous foundations. 

Wind pressure is a factor which must ime reckoned with, 
and the law generally makes complicated and technical stipu- 
lations as to how wind-bracing is to be calculated. Reduced to 
their simplest terms, it means that the law requires an allow- 
ance of about thirty pounds per square foot of wall surface 
above the ground. Where buildings are tall and narrow, the 
wind-bracing may be noted by the heavy gusset plates at the 
intersections of columns and girders. These often take the 
form of diagonal braces made of small beams or channels and 
riveted to the column three or four feet above the floor and to 
the girder as many feet from the column. Such bracing at the 
floor can only occur in the walls or in elevator shafts as, ob- 
viously, it would be impracticable to have them on the floors in 
the usable space of the building. Wind-bracing is too complex 
to attempt a further description of it here. A wind of one hun- 
dred miles per hour exerts a pressure of about thirty pounds 
per square foot, so it would seem that where such legal re- 
quirements are in effect, they are ample. There are no cases 
recorded of steel buildings being blown over, or even blown 
out of plumb, in cities where there is any pretense of building 


laws. In the great Florida cyclone, which at times blew more 


ll 


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STRUCTURAL STEEL IN THE MAKING Leg 


than one hundred and twenty miles per hour, a few buildings 
were deformed, and indeed so twisted as to require stripping 
away some of the masonry, so that the steel could be straight- 
ened. These were the flimsiest and least prudently designed. 
All of the better structures stood like the Rock of Gibraltar, 
although many of their windows were broken by the intensity 
of the gale. 

Builders are sometimes asked whether there is any likeli- 
hood of a building toppling over even though sufficiently 
wind-braced, and with this is generally coupled the question 
as to whether the buildings are not anchored down. I know 
of no case of toppling, even among the flimsiest of the tall 
Florida structures. As to the anchoring, a moment’s considera- 
tion will show such a course to be unnecessary, and indeed, 
it would be futile unless anchorages so enormous as to be fan- 
tastic were provided. Try to lift the back wheels of an ordi- 
nary automobile. The weight is about a ton, and its solid sta- 
bility gives no thought of any necessity to anchor it down. On 
a single column of the average office-building, say twenty sto- 
ries high, which comes to its foundation in about one-tenth 
of the area occupied by an automobile, there is a dead weight 
of perhaps five hundred tons. If the building contains fifty 
such columns, multiply this stability by fifty, or a total build- 
ing weight of twenty-five thousand tons. We commence to see 
that old Mother Nature can safely be depended upon to take 
care of all the anchoring necessary by means of gravity. The 
swaying of tall, narrow buildings in a heavy wind is, however, 
a reality. It is reported that both the Singer Tower and the 
Woolworth Building sway as much as six inches at the top 
during a heavy gale. This would be natural and, incidentally, 
would imply not a particle of danger. The steel is elastic and 
so is the masonry that encases it within the limits that such 
swaying demands. 


CHAPTER XV 
STEEL ERECTION AND DERRICKS 


Anp with these excursions into the mill and shop and en- 
gineer’s office, we are prepared to stand and watch the erec- 


tion of that steel, for it is hoped that our interest is heightened 


by the knowledge we have gained as to its origin. Down 
among the foundations, derricks have been erected and it is 
to be noted that the forehanded builder has provided anchor- 


ages in a number of the heavy foundations to which the guys 


of the derricks attach. The derricks are so arranged that the 
reach of their booms overlaps, that they can reach into the 
street, and can set the most remote columns—the far corners 
of the building. Steel arrives, the first delivery being the base- 
ment columns, for here we are assuming that the grillage 
beds on the foundation piers have all been truly set and pre- 
cisely in place; the work of the field engineers. Columns com- 
mence to stand up like magically produced trees, those far- 
thest from the derrick first, then here and there a panel of steel. 
Almost as you watch, you notice the connecting up of the 
panels, and in a day or two a whole tier of beams, and as 
rapidly as the panels are set they are planked over. 

The passer-by who stops to watch the setting of the first col- 
umns will surely feel the spirit of elation that pervades the 
job on this long-awaited day. A corner has been turned and 


the interesting steel erector takes the centre of the stage. It. 


is a gala day, after the long siege of anxiety of foundation 
building. The spectator watches a few pieces of steel set, is 
thrilled by it, and hurries on. A few days later he passes by 
and the derricks are now standing on the second floor. How 
did they get there? The process is simple, if one but stood to 
watch it. 

(78 


Ee a eS eS eee a ee 


en. ee 


Courtesy of Chicago Pneumatic Tool Co. 
THESE INTREPID STEEL WORKERS GIVE LITTLE HEED TO THE HAZARD OF THEIR OCCUPATION. 


High aloft on the steel structure of the New York The riveter’s bucket the only barrier between the 
Life Insurance Company Building, New York. red-hot rivet tossed from the forge and the crowd in . 
the street, 500 feet below. 


Courtesy of Starrett Brothers, Inc. 


The job derricked for action. Equipment of six guy derricks used in setting steel and in hoisting the stone 
on the New York Life Insurance Company Building, New York. 


180 SKYSCRAPERS 


It has been noted that the derrick works by setting the 
farthest pieces first, building nearer and nearer itself until it 
is finally hemmed in, boom almost tight against the mast, and 
raising the last piece of steel from where it has been placed 
almost at the foot-block of the derrick. Immediately after this 
last piece is set, all hands in the erection crew turn to on the 
business of raising. First the boom is unseated, and the top- 
ping lift detached from the boom point and attached just 
above the middle of the boom. Temporary guys that are stored 
at hand are attached to the boom point in holes especially pre- 
pared for them, or to the topping lift ring. With this rigging 
in readiness, the engineer is signalled to hoist away on the top- 
ping lift, and the boom rises vertically, the loose temporary 
guys dangling, as yet unused. As the base of the boom reaches 
a point a foot or two above the floor on which the derrick is 
to rest, generally two floors above the starting point of this 
operation, the riggers slide under it heavy timbers that were 
placed near by as one of the last operations of the derrick be- 
fore raising began. These form a temporary foot-block, and 
immediately the riggers carry the temporary guys out to pre- 
determined places on the new floor and secure the boom in 
its vertical position. Now the topping lift is unslung from the 
boom, and the fall of the derrick, which has hung loose from - 
the boom point, is attached to the mast just above the middle, 
preparatory to hoisting, just as the boom was hoisted. Securely 
lashed to the bottom of the mast are the foot-block timbers, 
on which the derrick stands when working. The fall having 
taken firm hold on the mast to support it, its guys are cast off 
at their outer ends and all is in readiness to hoist the mast. 
Now the engineer is signalled to go ahead on the fall, and the 
mast, with its foot-block and dangling guys, rises slowly 
through the floor structure and above it, as the boom did. The 
riggers have timbers laid out to thrust into place as soon as 
the bottom of the foot-block is above the floor, and the mast is — 


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182 SKYSCRAPERS 


quickly adjusted to its positions by the permanent guys, gen- 
erally secured to column tops at the outside line of the building. 
When this has been done, the mast is plumbed as nearly as can 
be; a rigger goes aloft on a bo’s’un chair and attaches the top- 
ping lift to its ring in the boom point; a short hoist of the boom 
until it hangs in place over the boom seat; the boom pin is 
shoved into place and secured, and the derrick is again ready 
for action. 

These derrick gangs develop great skill at this operation. 
It has been done repeatedly in two hours, and records of an 
hour and a half are claimed.. 

Where does it all come from? Whence these planks, these 
rivets and forges, these hoists for material, all arrived as if by 
magic? It is all a part of the builder’s plan, and we who watch 
little realize that here is the triumphant consummation of 
months of tireless effort of a great building organization. Yes, 
the things one sees and a thousand things unseen come not by 
magic, but as the result of vigilant and organized forethought. 
A turning point in the job has been reached. 

And now we are back to “grade’’ again; the anxieties of 
foundation and underpinning have passed, and as the struc- 
tural iron-workers take the steel up to the towering heights, a 
very great transition takes place in that deep basement. Only 
a couple of weeks ago it was bathed in sunlight, swarming 
with foundation men and iron workers. Now it is a dismally 
dark cavern, the daylight shut out by the superstructure; but 
already the electricians have strung electric lights, and it be- 
comes a place of sand-bins and mixing-beds, storehouses and 
toolhouses. A wholly different crew has taken possession and 
we see the new faces of plumbers, steamfitters and sheet-metal- 
workers. Already we are commencing to install the ventilat- 
ing ducts. 

But the interest is still aloft with the steel erectors, for they 
hold the centre of the stage as long as there are new heights to 


; " eee Soa? 
eee ee a Ne 


Se ge a a a 


STEEL ERECTION AND DERRICKS 183 


conquer. Looking up ten stories does not seem so high, but 
looking down—Ye gods! If there ever was an experience to 
bring to the human body its sense of helplessness and despair, 
its agonies and terrors, it is the sensation felt by one who has 
not had training when he suddenly finds himself out on a 
narrow beam or plank, high above the ground and unpro- 
tected by a hand-hold of any kind; simply depending on his 
sense of balance and equilibrium. I have seen men who had 
not had experience with height and who suddenly found them- 
selves out on these precarious footings, get down and hug 
themselves around the beam, their eyes tightly shut, and gasp- 
ing as though they were drowning. The fresh paint on the 
beam made no difference. They were oblivious to ruined and 
disheveled clothing; the one primitive instinct of self-preserva- 
tion obliterated all others. Such unfortunates experience every 
sensation of imminent death, yet the devil-may-care iron-set- 
ters look on unconcerned. To them the victim’s desperate plight 
is a source of almost hilarious amusement. Some men can never 
accustom themselves to great heights, and these should not 
follow the construction end of the building business. Most 
men, however, can acquire the sense of balance when aloft, 
but it is a thing that must be done not too suddenly. Courage 
must be tempered with caution. These iron-setters become ac- 
customed as a necessary part of their daily occupation, and 
they are oblivious to any sensation of height. They acquire an 
almost reckless disregard for the ever-present danger that lurks 
in a misstep. The instinctive sense of balance, once attained, 
must be used and practised or it will be lost. Men who deave 
building work and return to it after an interval of a couple of 
years are apt to find themselves very ill at ease at a great height 
until they have reaccustomed themselves to it. 

Steel comes to the job in truck-loads of from six to ten tons. 
The floor beams and small girders are bundled together and 
hoisted to the derrick floor, there to be sorted and then set. 


f 


184 SKYSCRAPERS 


Columns and girders may be heavier, and even special trucks 
have to be used to bring them to the site. A twelve to fifteen 
ton column is a very heavy one and is generally to be found 
in the first or second tier. Trusses may be of very great 
weights, sometimes over a hundred tons, where great audi- 
toriums are to be spanned. To hoist these great weights, spe- 
cial derricks must be provided and much preparatory work done 
to reinforce the structure whereon the derricks stand. Ordina- 
rily, however, a derrick of from ten to fifteen tons capacity will 
suffice. The bundles of beams one sees soaring aloft generally 
weigh about five to seven tons. Columns are made in two-story 
lengths because that is the practical limit of height for setting. 
Moreover, since the floor beams and columns for the two suc- 
ceeding floors must be stored while being sorted on the floor 
on which the derrick stands, the danger of overloading that 
floor must be considered. Two stories of steel piled on the 
floor is about the allowable limit in the ordinary metropolitan 
structure we see. 

Derricks are of great concern to the builder, and special care 
is taken in estimating their duties and use. The cables must be 
new and without a flaw, tested and of the finest make.-Turn- 
buckles and chains are tested and frequently inspected. In the 
basement and for foundation work one frequently sees Stiff- 
leg Derricks, especially around caisson work or on the bank 
where deep excavations are going on. These, as their name im- 
plies, consist of two vertical, triangular frames set at right 
angles to each other, the mast forming a common vertical leg 
for each triangle. The boom is generally much longer than the 
mast. This derrick has the advantage that it does not have to 
be guyed in all directions but can be set up almost anywhere, 
the back end of the stiff legs weighted down with stone piles 
or other heavy objects. The boom swings freely in an arc of 
two hundred and seventy degrees. Its disadvantage is that it 
cannot reach any point back of itself—in the remaining ninety 


STEEL ERECTION AND DERRICKS 185 


degree arc—excepting by the laborious and sometimes dan- 
gerous expedient of unshipping the upper leg, turning the 
boom back between the legs, reseating the removed leg and 
then guying the mast away from the new position of the boom. 
In its new position, the boom works only in an arc of ninety 
degrees. 

If the reader has a flare for engineering, he might care to 
rough out a strain diagram with the boom working back be- 
tween the stiff legs with the theoretical lift at any point out- 
side of a line drawn between the centres of the two stone piles 
weighting down the heels of the stiff leg frames. Such a dia- 
gram will reveal that the tendency of the derrick in this posi- 
tion is to lift up at the mast—hence the necessary temporary 
back-guying to overcome this danger. 

The Guy Derrick is the one most commonly seen in steel 
erection. It is now almost universally of steel “‘lattice’”’ con- 
struction. Here the mast is longer than the boom, the guys, 
generally six in number, are attached to the “spider” at the 
top of the derrick, which also forms the bearing in which the 
gudgeon pin turns. Booms are generally from seventy-five to 
ninety feet long and the mast about ten feet longer than the 
boom. The boom hinges on the mast at its base in either type 
of derrick. The advantage of this type is that it can operate in 
a complete circle—three hundred and sixty degrees. It can 
also be more easily raised from floor to floor. Its disadvantage 
is that, except as it operates in the very limited arc between 
any two guys, it must “boom up,”—that is, the boom must be 
pulled up close against the mast before it can be turned around 
to any position outside the two guys between which it may 
have picked up its load. The process is a little tedious, but 
there is no practicable way of avoiding this everlasting boom- 
ing in and out, and the advantages of a full arc swing are very 
great. 

The Gin Pole is a light, inverted T shaped affair, with the 


186 SKYSCRAPERS 


inverted horizontal bar of the tee supported by diagonal struts. 
This little derrick is moved about on the floor with pinch-bars 
to a position to set some light piece, quickly guyed and in use 
while we watch it. Sometimes there is a small engine on the 
floor to operate its manila rope fall. Sometimes its hoisting is 
accomplished by three or four husky pairs of hands. 

The Breast Derrick, most commonly seen where stone set- 
ting is being carried on, like the Gin Pole, has a lateral mo-— 
tion and is pinched along sidewise to its desired position. It 
looks like a truncated letter A, or perhaps like an elongated 
Tori gate from Japan. Generally used with a manilla rope fall, 
it carries a winch bolted to its sturdy legs at a convenient 
height to enable two men to wind upon its drum the travel- 
ling part of the fall. 

The Ginnywink is a light A frame derrick resembling a 
Stiff-leg, but smaller, and like the Gin Pole, is useful for light 
work where a derrick is needed in a limited area. This little 
derrick is also pinched about on the floor. It has no mast but 
its legs are like a letter A with the topping lift in the apex, 
the boom swinging on a pin in the horizontal sill and a fold- 
ing stiff leg running out rearward, which is lashed down, as 
is the sill that supports the bottoms of the legs of the A. This 
derrick swings only in an arc of one hundred and eighty de- 
grees and must be moved frequently. 

There are many special forms of derrick, but the ones above 
given will indicate the standard forms most frequently seen. 

These boom derricks, either stiff-leg or guy, are operated by 
two separate cables, the topping lift which raises the boom or 
allows it to lower, and the fall. The hoisting engine is equipped 
with two drums which may be operated independently of each 
other, and the hoisting engineer operates these drums in re- 
sponse to signals from the derrick man. As the building rises, 
the derrick gets entirely out of sight of the engineer, for his 
engine is generally left in the basement or on the ground floor. 


si 


Courtesy of American Hoist & Derrick Company. 


Two enormous Stiff-leg derricks used by McClintic-Marshall Co. in the construction of the Hudson River 
Bridge towers. The masts are 55 feet high and the booms 85 feet long. Each derrick has a lifting capacity of 
84 tons at 60 feet radius, or 65 tons at 80 feet radius. The derrick platforms are so devised that they can be 
carried up with the towers as they are set, and eventually will work from an elevation of 560 feet. In this 
position, the cable on each derrick-fall will be approximately 9,000 feet long—nearly two miles. 


188 SKYSCRAPERS 


A shed is often built around it, and there he works the drums 
entirely by the clanging signal bells that a signalman away up 
on top operates. When the derrick is hoisting from the street, 
the signalman takes his signals from the men in the street, as 
he peers down from his eerie stand on some projection away 
up on the edge of the structure. When the derrick is setting, 
he moves in to a point near the base of the derrick and takes 
his signals from the derrick foreman. 

As we know from our physics, the number of parts of line that 
pass back and forth through the separate sheaves of the pulley 
blocks determines the leverage or lifting power. The derrick 
itself must, of course, be strong enough to stand the greatest 
strain that will be imposed upon it, but the lifting power of 
the cable depends on the number of “parts” in the topping 
lift and fall. Now, when there is a very heavy load to lift, the 
number of parts in these two is increased, the blocks, of 
course, having suitable numbers of sheaves to do this. Roving 
up for a heavy load is a tedious operation, as the boom has to 
be laid down while the cables are passed over and back for the 
new roving. When not in use for heavy lifting, the fall is 
roved with fewer parts, for the increased lifting power is 
gained at the expense of speed. The fact that a three-quarter 
inch steel hoisting cable wiil stand a strain of over twenty tons 
before it will break does not tell the story. A lift of, say, fif- 
teen tons or more must be gingerly handled. It would never 
do to start it with a jerk or attempt to hoist it at great speed. 
The shock on the equipment would be too great. The roving 
of a number of parts on the hoisting gear not only adds safety 
to the hoisting cables, but it gives the necessary slow motion 
to the heavy lift, a ticklish operation at best. 

A brand new set of cables is almost always used at the out- 
set of every large job, and the length of cable depends on 
whether any of this heavy lifting is to be encountered in the 
upper part of the structure. If there be such, the cable of the 


STEEL ERECTION AND DERRICKS 189 


fall will be very long. For example, the fall cable for a build- 
ing three hundred feet high, if we have to prepare for a lift 
requiring six parts to the fall when that height is reached, 
must be twenty-one hundred feet long, plus a safe amount 
wound on the drum, plus allowance for turns and indirect 
leads—perhaps a twenty-five hundred foot cable—nearly half 


a mile. 


| 


Courtesy of Thompson-Starrett Co. 


Derricks in action—another view of setting the great trusses of the Paramount Building, 
New York. 


CHAPTER XVI 
SKYSCRAPER BUILDING-STONE 


Ir may seem a far cry from geology to the skyscraper, and 
yet the two are in many ways intimately related. Some one has 
said that all building is founded on four elements; earth, stone, 
metal, and wood. Three of these are geological, and yet there 


is nothing in the science of building that requires the builder 


to be a geologist. Only love of the profession will prompt the 


builder to lift the corners of the pages of geology, for here is 


a vast storehouse of wonder that bids him look a little deeper, 


that the grandeur of the thing he does may take on a richer 


meaning. Yet we all know that, even in its profundity, the 
science of geology only scratches the surface of the mysteries 
it reveals. So it would be too much to say that a busy builder 
should be a geologist as well. 

Our metals we receive after many processes have converted 
them into the useful parts we assemble. Our clays come to us 


after they have been fashioned into bricks and terra-cottas and ~ 


tiles and sanitary wares. Our woods come fashioned from the 
mill after they have been kiln-dried, and even after they are 
in place, they must be filled and varnished and treated. The 
cementaceous rocks go through vast transformations before 
they come to us in the greatly changed form of Portland ce- 
ment and the wall plasters. 

But stone comes direct from nature to us, and its beauties 
are the natural beauties that nature has bestowed—no process- 
ing here except the process of hewing out of the solid the 
architectural forms, that the natural colors and textures may 
splendidly adorn our structures. Stone, the symbol of perma- 
nence, has from the very beginning been man’s greatest and 
most everlasting building material. 

190 


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Courtesy of Georgia Marble Co. Courtesy of Col. U.S. Grant, 3d, Director of Public Buildings 
Much of our beautiful marble comes from the Georgia & Public Parks of the National Capital. 

Marble Company’s quarries at Tate, Ga. The black Putting together or setting the great statue of Lincoln 
appearance of the white stoneiscaused by theshadows. in the Lincoln Memorial, Washington, D. C. 


ee Saitama 


Courtesy of The North Carolina Granite Corp. 


Granite blocks from which great statues may be made. Clear, beautiful, white granite from the Mount Airy, 
N. C., quarry, ready to be removed to the cutting shed. 


anlipe 


192 SKYSCRAPERS 


In the whole development of skyscrapers, our architects 
have never challenged the supremacy of stone; for while brick, 
that handmaiden of stone, has taken its proper place as a herit- 
age from all that was best in the earlier forms, stone has been 
supreme as the basic material. Look about the great cities 
where every conceivable style and experiment of design may 
be seen; yet the stone base rules practically all. Occasionally 
one sees brick starting a foot or two from the sidewalk, but 
it gives the impression of instability, a sort of unfitness, no 
matter what the architectural attempt may have been. 

And so we have the stone base reigning supreme, both be- 
cause of a fundamental instinct that demands it, and for the 
entirely practical reason that it is in fact the best and most 
durable material with which to start the base of a skyscraper. 
Those few aristocrats of tall construction that boast a stone 
exterior to the very top hold proud distinction among their 
neighbors, and while not a whit more utilitarian, the distinc- 
tion is there, and their owners take a pride in them that justi- 
fies their increased cost. 

The exterior fagade of metropolitan skyscrapers almost al- 
ways starts off with a base course of granite. Early builders 
used to call this the water table, although modern design, 
with such strict limitations on extension over the building 
line, has forced the “table” feature almost into a mere rudi- 
ment, and we now commonly see the plane ot the granite face 
on the building line, the same that is held for the general 
facade of the building; only cornices, occasional ornamenta- 
tion, and the drips of sills extending beyond the line. 

Geologists tell us that granite is igneous rock, which means 
that it was produced by those tremendous, pre-geologic heats 
supposed to have arisen in the molten condition of the earth 
when it was just emerging from its nebulous form. This same 
geological theory ascribes to the rock formations in Maine, New 
Hampshire and Vermont the earliest solidifications; but how- 


Inside a modern granite cutting shed showing extensive tubing to serve the pneumatic hand tools. The large 
suction tubes carry away the dust and in a large measure protect the cutters, who are subject to silicosis. 


Granite cutting by machinery is a recent development and much cutting is still done by hand. Its extreme 
hardness rendered it proof against machine working until the invention of tools of tremendous 
strength and power. 


Courtesy of The John Swenson Granite Co. 


194 SKYSCRAPERS 


ever that may be, practically all of the granite used in the cities 
east of the Mississippi River comes from the New England 
quarries or those located in the Appalachian Mountain range. 
Thus, we have excellent granite quarries in Georgia, compet- 
ing even as far north as New York with the granites from 
New England; and while, throughout the South and South- 
east, New England granites may be found, they are selected for 
the peculiar qualities and texture arising out of the architec- 
tural requirements rather than the structural requirements of 
the buildings in which they are used. 

Architects select granites largely for their beauty and spe- 
cial effects of finish, because all building granites are practi- 
cally of equal structural value, and as a matter of fact, all are 
much stronger than would be demanded by any structural re- 
quirements. The hardness and density of granite are the 
things that commend it structurally and are reasons for using 
it in the base course. It will withstand the most severe wear, 
but in addition, it conveys the feeling of solidity and ever- 
lasting permanence that commends it to the designers and 
owners of these great structures. 

Unhappily, it has one quality which condemns it, and that 
is that under excessive heat it cracks and spawls inordinately, 
much more than almost any other stone, although we know 
that the stone work of any building, whether granite or other 
material, long exposed to great heat will be destroyed, either 
by spawling or, if it is of limestone origin, by calcination; 
that is, it turns to chalk. 

Some of the granite quarries of the country are very old, 
almost as old as our colonial civilization, for throughout New 
England we can find tombstones dated as early as the begin- 
ning of the seventeenth century which can be recognized as 
having come from these quarries. Such stones, taken in the 
crude beginning from the overlying and easily accessible strata 
of the site of later quarries, indicate the peculiar nature of 


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Courtesy of Col. U. S. Grant, 3d, Director of Public Buildings and Public Parks of the National Capital. 


Setting one of the huge Colorado Yule drums of the colonnade on the Lincoln Memorial, Washington, D. C. 
These stones weigh nearly twenty tons each. 


A well-opened granite quarry at Concord, N. H. As the quarry deepens the strata become thicker, the result 
of the geological cooling processes. The lower layers, cooling more slowly and under tremendous pressure 
from the over-burden, solidify with less frequent stratifications. 


196 SKYSCRAPERS 


granite in its formation. Almost any granite quarry, when the 
overburden of earth has been removed, reveals on its top 
surface thin layers, anywhere from a few inches to a foot 
thick, actually separated from each other, so that, with a little 
skill, those early quarrymen were able to break off rough 
quarry sizes for their small tombstones. As the quarrymen go 
deeper into the quarry, these laminations become thicker, and 
sometimes ten or twelve feet below the original surface, the 
better and thicker stone, suitable for modern building, is 
found. A quarry thus far developed is apt to be pretty well 
established, and the experienced quarrymen know that the 
color and quality of the stone from there down to almost un- 
limited depth is practically assured—or if inferior quality is 
encountered, it will cause abandonment of further working at 
that point. 

In the great quarries at Barré, Vermont, and throughout 
New England one sees, running away from the quarry, small 
industrial railroads that have through years of quarrying built 
up vast piles, almost mountains, of quarry tailings; almost all — 
the waste of these layers where they thin out at the edges. 

Formerly, the splitting off of dimension stones from these 
quarries was carried on by first drilling lines of holes about an 
inch or so in diameter to a depth of perhaps two or three feet. 
This was called line drilling, and the splitting was done by 
means of “plugs” and “feathers,” a method still in use in 
some granite quarries. A feather is nothing more than a half- 
round piece of iron bent away from its flat side at one end. 
Two of these placed with their flat sides together will present 
the appearance of a small, round bar, about six inches long, that 
has been split in two for its entire length. Two feathers are 
put in each hole, the joints all in the plane of the line of holes, 
ready for an attack by the plugs. The plugs are nothing but 
iron wedges which are inserted between the spread ends of 
the feathers. These are first lightly tapped into place, and as 


SKYSCRAPER BUILDING-STONE 197 


soon as they are secured, men walk back and forth alung the 
lines of plugs driving them in, thus exerting in the aggregate 
an irresistible force, which soon splits the whole block of 
granite along the line of holes. The bottom of the laminated 
layer lies somewhere below the sheet on which the quarry- 
men are working, and the quarry foreman knows about where 
this is. If the work is being carried on in a place where the 
easiest quarrying occurs, these laminations will be about four 
to six feet thick. Some quarries have hydraulic pressure equip- 
ment, which forces water under tremendous pressure into 
pipes drilled six to ten feet into the rock, and sealed where 
they enter the rock, so that the pressure is exerted at the depth 
of the pipe in the rock. Such pressure will split the granite 
as effectively as will line driving. 

The large blocks, split off by either method, are again 
broken to derrick sizes, and a derrick, conveniently placed, 
raises them and sets them on cars, to be carried to the cut- 
ting sheds. The cutting sheds may be located either near the 
quarry or at some distant point. 

Granite, on account of its hardness, cannot be worked by 
power tools as easily as can some of the softer stones, such 
as limestone or even marble. However, the invention of auto- 
matic tools and tough, alloy steels has opened up a field of 
machine working in granite of which the cutters have not 
been slow to avail themselves. The cutting shed of to-day is a 
place of ingenious, automatic tools, guided by the same skilful 
hands that, only twenty years ago, laboriously pounded away 
at the granite surfaces to shape them into the architectural 
forms of the buildings of that day. 

Like all other building-stone, granite is cut to cutting dia- 
grams with due regard to its fitting the structural steel, and 
its anchoring to the steel frame of the building. When it ar- 
rives at the building, there still may be a little fitting to be 
done, so we see hovering around the setting of granite both 


198 SKYSCRAPERS 


the setters and the fitters—two separate trades, an example 
of the high division of building labor. It is true that on many 
jobs there is work for both setters and fitters, but frequently 
the fitter has many idle hours on his hands as he watches the 
perfectly detailed granite set in place. Granite, like other forms 
of exterior stone, has to be anchored to the steel, and the fitter 
plays his useful part in fitting around beams and cutting spe- 
cial anchor holes in the edges of the stone. Frequently a forge 
is near at hand to facilitate the bending and twisting of these 
anchors better to secure the stone to the steel frame; and when 
the stone has thus been anchored, it is backed up with brick 
work. 

Granite, and in fact all exterior stone work, is only a facing 
from four to eight inches or more thick, never solid through 
the walls of a skeleton steel structure, first because it would be 
too expensive, and also because brick backing provides the 
proper foundation for the interior finish. 

The stone is hoisted into place by derrick men, still another 
trade, useful and busy; but adding another to this group of 
trades around the stone setting operation, which includes the 
fitter, the setter, the derrick man, the bricklayer, and occasion- 
- ally the blacksmith, while several of these trades have their 
laborer helpers. Yet, people sometimes wonder why stone 
work is so excessively expensive. 

The granite facing of a building may extend to any height, 
from the mere base course projecting a few inches above the 
sidewalk level, to the last stone on the cornice of the building. 
Due to the high cost of granite and the expense of setting and 
fitting, we see fewer and fewer all granite skyscrapers. Never- 
theless, there are some beautiful examples of this extensive use 
of granite. The Wanamaker store in Philadelphia is granite 
clear to the cornice. The Hanover Bank building in New 
York, twenty stories high, is similarly an all-granite facade. 
In both cases, the method described for producing and setting 


she aly 


SKYSCRAPER BUILDING-STONE 199 


the granite was the same. These are, no doubt, everlasting 
structures, unless, perchance, a destructive fire overtakes them, 
either from the burning of their contents, or fires occurring in 
adjoining buildings. If such misfortune ever overtakes them, 
the beautiful facades will most certainly be sad sights after the 
spawling by conflagration, aggravated by the added havoc that 
the water from the fire hose playing on the hot stone would 
produce. 

Every farmer knows that the way to get rid of a granite 
boulder in his field is to build a fire alongside of it, and when 
the stone becomes hot, to throw water on it. It bursts asunder 
under the swift contraction that the drenching of cold water 
causes. In like manner, the granite front of a building will go 
to pieces under such alternate intense heat and cold. In the 
Baltimore fire, several beautiful buildings with granite fagades 
seemed to suffer the most from the fire. The excessive damage 
was due to this weakness of the granite. 

The high cost of granite and its difficulty of working are 
in part responsible for its limited use, but not altogether. 
Architects have found that the combination of granite and 
some other stone makes a pleasing and dignified fagade. 

The most commonly used building-stone, which in the eyes 
of many is also the most beautiful, is limestone. It can be rec- 
ognized by its warm, grayish or buff color and sand-like tex- 
ture. It is in many respects an almost ideal building material 
on account of the ease with which it is worked and the beau- 
tiful effects that are obtained by the use of it, both in its plain 
surfaces and where moulding and carving are desired. The 
reader must not get the impression that limestone, wherever 
found, is suitable building material. In fact, fine limestones, 
so commonly observed in metropolitan structures, are found 
only in a few parts of the country. The most extensively de- 
veloped quarries are those in the neighborhood of Bedford, 
Indiana; hence the term, Bedford stone, which is loosely ap- 


200 SKYSCRAPERS 


plied to the particular form of oolitic limestone generally used 
as building material. 

Limestones are of wholly different origin from granite. 
Geologists tell us that they are of sedimentary origin; that is, 
laid down by the deposit of waters from the eroded and dis- 
solved calcareous elements that the rivers brought down to the 
geological seas and lakes. Again we are in the field of pro- 
found speculation, because in developing a theory of the origin 
of this material, the geologists are uncertain as to whether all 
of that limestone came from these erosive and sedimentary 
phenomena, or whether it all came from the organic skeletons 
deposited through geological eras in infinite numbers in the 
beds of those old geological seas. : 

Marble, it is to be said, is of the same general stuff, all origi- 
nating from the calcareous formations of the earth, a stupen- 
dous thing to contemplate. 

Limestone quarrying is much simpler than granite quarry- 
ing. The stone is softer and yields easily to the quarrying 
equipment, which is now almost universally power driven. 
Like granite, limestone is generally quarried from the surface 
after stripping away the soil and other over-burden. The oolitic 
stratum, when reached, is easily recognized, and on the ex- 
posed surface after stripping, the power-driven channeling 
machines are set up. Long channels are run, and in these 
wedges are inserted. Limestone, however, is not laminated, 
and a quarry, to be successful, must have from twenty to 
seventy-five feet of thickness to justify working it. This oolitic 
deposit is seldom found more than a hundred feet thick. 

Blocks of limestone having been broken off like granite, 
they are transported to cutting sheds; but unlike granite, lime- 
stone yields almost wholly to power machinery. Its relatively 
soft texture and homogeneity are such that it can be safely 
worked with power tools. Thus, the limestone cutting shed is 
more like a modern industrial plant. The old stone cutter of 


a 
Re 


mr aaces 


AP PE 


aS 


ae Pon 


SRL eee ace 


Limestone quarry. This sedimentary deposit laid down in the geologic eras when seas covered the central 
part of the United States. Note that the odlitic limestone is sharply divided from the over-burden, which is 


called Mitchell. 


Channeling-machines blocking out the limestone. The huge monolith being pulled out is too large to be 
lifted intact and is cut up into what is called quarry stock. The limit of lift and handling in transportation is 


about 125 tons. 
Couriesy of Indiana Limestone Co. 


202 SKYSCRAPERS 


the maul and chisel has been almost wholly replaced by power 
machinery; yet this machinery 1s supervised by stone cutters, 
and it still remains that the last finishing touches of fine carv- 
ing or the joining of delicate mouldings has to be done by 
hand. 

The setting of all sorts of exterior stone work is done by the 
same method; the same tools, the same workmen, the same 
equipment. However, the brickwork backing of limestone is 
generally laid in non-staining cement, for ordinary Portland 
cement has the property of discoloring limestone. Many de- 
vices are used to prevent this, one of them being the painting 
of the stones on the back and edges with some material, gen- 
erally an asphaltic paint which is intended to seal the pores of 
the stone against the discoloring ingredients of the Portland 
cement. Non-staining cement is especially prepared with these 
damaging ingredients eliminated. 

Limestone seems to have established its place forever in the 
hearts of designers, and is the accepted badge of dignified gen- 
tility where used to any considerable extent for architectural 
effect. We commonly find limestone reaching to the second © 
or third floor of the skyscraper, and at this point it is often 
terminated with a handsomely moulded cornice or frieze. The 
windows which penetrate it are enhanced and beautified by 
its mild but virile texture, and ornamentation carved in it, if 
well designed, is sure to be striking in its clearness—a most 
appropriate architectural medium. 

After the cornice on the second or third floor, the building 
is apt to rise a sheer brick shaft with only sills and possible 
lintels of limestone. Then come the main frieze and cornice, 
which, if not of limestone, will probably be of terra cotta in 
imitation thereof; for now the appeal to appearance is farther 
removed from the eye, and mass is apt to take the place of 
beauty of detail and texture. Not infrequently, the shaft of the 
building is made of limestone, one of the richest of exteriors, 


The turning-lathe adapted to stone cutting. 


Courtesy of Indiana Limestone Co. 


QA SKYSCRAPERS 


and in the hands of a skilful architect, it is one of the loveliest 
materials to be found anywhere. 

Marble is a near relative of limestone geologically. In cer- 
tain parts of the country where marble is quarried, particu- 
larly in Tennessee and Georgia where very pure strains of 
marble occur, the waste is burned into lime in adjacent kilns, 
—one of the sources of the ordinary lump lime of commerce, 
with which builders have been familiar from time immemorial. 
But it is of marble as a building exterior that we are speaking, 
wide in its variations of color, texture and figure. Not so fre- 
quently do we see figured marbles in exteriors. Architects 
generally prefer the natural shades without variegations, some- 
times streaked with saffron or tan, sometimies with blues and 
grays, slight color variations that give the marble warmth, as 
artists would say. As a near relative of limestone, it is sup- 
posed to have a somewhat similar origin, but it is of vastly 
greater antiquity. Moreover, it is thought that, succeeding its 
limestone origin, it was transformed into the marble we know 
by tremendous pressures, due to the contraction of the earth’s 
surface; those pressures which threw up the mountain ranges. 
For marble is seldom found in horizontal sedimentary beds, 
the strata generally indicating clearly the original sedimen- 
tary origin, afterwards disturbed by the titanic upheavals that 
have brought up the out-croppings we see in marble quarries. 
Heat, too, may have played its important part in the forma- 
tion; but of this we shall not attempt to speak, beyond noting 
that, out of this cosmic evolution, with its unnumbered 
changes and variations, the beautiful marbles are a product of 
the admixture of original, basic limestone and mineral colora- 
tions, of which iron, cobalt, feldspar, and an endless variety 
of other ingredients play their important parts. Marble is a 
carbonate of lime; so is limestone; so is onyx; so are the dolo- 
mites. The unlimited variations may be appreciated. 

Marble, like limestone, is worked almost wholly by ma- 


Left—Gang-saws sawing a large block of Indiana limestone into commercial sizes. Varying thicknesses are 
obtained by changing the spacing of the saws. Right—This diamond-studded saw does the work of 100 men. 


Left—Inside a cutting-shed at Bedford, Ind. Limestone is worked almost entirely by machinery, the finishing 

work being done with hand pneumatic tools. The finest finishing touches are still done at times by expert 

artisans with hand tools. Right—Cutting the voussoir of a beautiful Gothic arch, an example of the triumph 
of mechanical stone cutting. 


‘ Courtesy of Indiana Limestone Co. 


206 SKYSCRAPERS 


chinery. The blocks, quarried after the manner of limestone, 
are sent to the cutting sheds. We are now speaking of its use 
as exterior ashlar, where the blocks are cut in thicknesses 
ranging from four to eight inches, some less, and of course, to 
greater thicknesses where cornices or thick and heavy mem- 
bers are required. In the cutting sheds, it goes through power- 
driven gang-saws to be reduced to ashlar. These are not unlike 
wood saws, excepting that they have no teeth. They are rap- 
idly driven back and forth by machinery, with quantities of 
water and sand pouring over them as they work. The blocks 
of ashlar thus produced pass on to plane beds or turning lathes, 
according to the requirements of the cutting diagrams, the 
same system of cutting diagrams as is used for any sort of ex- 
terior stonework. 

Marble is more of an aristocrat than limestone. It finds its 
way into our most beautiful public buildings and carries with 
it the seal of aristocracy. But it can hardly claim greater dig- 
nity than limestone. It is much more expensive, both on ac- 
count of its comparative rarity and on account of the added 
difficulty of cutting, because, while cut on the same sort of 
machine, the cutting is harder and the processes are therefore 
slower. We know, of course, that marble is susceptible of 
much finer and more beautiful carving than is limestone, or 


in fact, any other stone. In its finest grades we think of the : 


beautiful Carrara marble statues, the medium used by the 
Greeks and Romans, and in fact, through all ages where the 
finest stone statuary has been produced. The Elgin marbles 
from the Parthenon, the greatest classic of architectural carvy- 
ing of all time, themselves proclaim the perfection of that 
stone as a medium for the most beautiful building sculptures 
we know. ! 

There are varieties of marble, beautiful in color but un- 


suitable for exterior use; but these we shall mention later 


when we are discussing interior finish. In the warmer climates 


SKYSCRAPER BUILDING-STONE 207 


where the ravages of alternating seasons of frost and heat are 
not to be contended with, some of these colored building 
marbles are most effectively used. And here other relatives of 
limestone are used with great effect. The principal one is 
travertine. : 

Now travertine is a generic division of the limestone fam- 
ily which bears an evil reputation on account of its friable na- 
ture. Geologists sometimes call it tufa, and it is generally dis- 
missed by them as having no commercial value. Far different 
is the Italian or Roman travertine. From these ancient quar- 
ries on the banks of the Tiber was cut the stone for some of 
the noblest of the Roman exteriors in the heyday of Roman 
supremacy in architecture. The supremacy of the travertine 
is proclaimed by these magnificent Roman specimens that still 
survive. 

Travertine is porous, very porous; in fact, close inspection 
reveals that the stone is riddled with small interstices and fis- 
sures, but still, it is a very solid stone and at a short distance 
presents a most beautiful appearance. It is generally light buff 
in color, although there are darker varieties of it. In America 
it is being used increasingly for interior finish, but very little 
for exteriors because of its porous nature, for in spite of its 
artistic appearance, the interstices will fill with water and ice 
in our northern climates, the forerunner of a general break- 
down of any water-holding surface exposed to this rigor. 

There are, of course, endless varieties of other types of stone 
—sand-stones, dolomites, and other branches of the limestone 
family. In different parts of the country some of these are 
favorites on account of their availability and beauty. There is 
no intention here to attempt to list and classify the wide va- 
rieties of building-stones available; rather, it is intended to 
point out a few of the most conspicuous, with the idea that 
the reader’s interest will be attracted to inquire as to just what 
the stone is, as he sees a skyscraper in course of construction. 


208 SKYSCRAPERS 


Stonework, of whatever sort, is said to be jointed when 
there is careful cutting of the surfaces that come adjacent to 
each other to form uniform joints, as distinguished from the 
haphazard joints that occur in rubble stone masonry, where 
the irregular sizes and shapes are laid with mortar joints of 
rough and uneven bedding—anything to insure a solid wall 
with the beds and ends supplemented by spawls and chips. 
Such rubble is a useful and permanent form of masonry in 
its place, but is seldom seen in the exterior of a skyscraper. Al- 
most universally, the stonework of the tall metropolitan struc- 
ture is carefully cut and jointed. The horizontal joints are 
called bed joints and, as their name implies, form the beds on 
which the succeeding courses are laid. The end joints are end 
or vertical joints, and the joints in arches where they occur 
are called radial joints. 

Generally all of this jointing is carefully laid out on the 
architectural drawings. In fact, the jointing is the subject of 
much study on the part of the architect, and reflects one of the 
oldest of the sciences connected with building. Stereotomy is 
the science of stone jointing, and in the days of pre-skyscraper 
construction, it held its structural importance even as the 
science of structural steel design now controls the structure of 
a modern skyscraper. Stereotomy reached its highest develop- 
ment in the Renaissance, and perhaps was the only true science 
that entered into the construction of the great cathedrals of 
Italy, France and England. The architects of that period de- 
veloped the science to an amazing degree, as the mighty 
cathedrals so amply testify; but in England the development 
was carried to perhaps its most advanced form, and indeed 
it is probable that the science was completely understood and 
its absolute limits attained in some of the great English struc- 
tures. The fan vaultings at both Cambridge and Oxford, not to 
mention the stonework in the imposing cathedrals of Win- 
chester, Canterbury and others, are still the marvels of the 


SKYSCRAPER BUILDING-STONE 209 


world in the intricacies and studied ingenuities of their stere- 
otomy. In some of our best architectural text-books are to be 
found scale and isometric drawings of these wonderful crea- 
tions of the stone-cutter’s art. Stereotomy is still taught in 
many of our engineering schools in connection with descrip- 
tive geometry. 

We think of stone as the everlasting material, which it is; 
but stonework, when its laying and jointing are considered, 1s 
not everlasting. The fact is that the jointing of stonework, 
particularly where copings and horizontal surfaces are con- 
cerned, has a bearing on permanence, for the work must be so 
designed as to admit of the least possible penetration of water. 
Especially is this true in our northern climate where the ac- 
tion of alternating frost and heat must be contended with. 

Experience shows that all finished stonework, and in fact 
stone structures of almost any sort, must be watched and kept 
up through frequent inspections, and occasional rejointing 
and even resetting of copings, platforms and balustrades. The 
casual observer does not see this, for it is all done unobtrusive- 
ly, but it is done nevertheless. The perfection of the stonework 
of the Capitol at Washington, to mention only one of our 
great monumental stone buildings, gives the impression of 
everlasting permanence, but this is gained by constant vigi- 
lance of upkeep. Let any such structure go ten years without 
this care and it will commence to show very definite signs of 
a start on the road to dilapidation. The trouble comes not 
from the stone but from the exposed joints, which yield under 
the action of expansion and contraction—alternate heat and 
cold. 

The sedimentary stones, limestone, marble, sandstone and 
the like, seem to be most enduring when laid on their natural 
bed; that is, where the bed joints are cut parallel to the hori- 
zontal plane in which the stone was originally deposited by 
nature. This is not always easy to do, because the finer grades 


210 SKYSCRAPERS 


of these stones are so homogeneous as to make it almost im- 
possible to recognize the position of the natural bed after the 
quarry blocks have been removed and perhaps turned over a 
few times in the handling. Some of the sandstones almost de- 
mand natural bed setting; and if the cutters fail to observe 
this, the result in a few years is a noticeable deterioration. Wit- 
ness the scaling surfaces of many of the old brownstone fronts 
of New York and other cities. Where this scaling is most ag- 
gravated, it is a sure sign that the natural bed has been turned 
on edge and laid parallel to the plane of the wall, thus ex- 
posing the laminations to the elements. 

The finish of stonework may be anything from rock faced 
—where the surface, as its name implies, is simply roughly 
split from quarry sizes—to honed or even polished surfaces. 
Only the hard stones, such as granite, certain marbles and a 
few dolomites, can be polished; the soft stones, such as lime- 
stone, the soft marbles and sandstones, cannot be given a 
higher finish than rubbing or honing. Architects have always 
known the technic of finish, and some very beautiful effects 
are obtained by the mere change in texture of the cutting. 
Thus, in granite or other hard stones, the surface may be said 
to be six-cut, eight-cut, or even ten-cut; meaning that the bush 
hammers used to produce the finished surface have six, eight 
or ten blades to the inch. 

Soft stone surface dressing is effected with maul and chisel, 
the chisel having a comb-like cutting edge which the artisan 
‘skilfully guides where the six, eight or ten-cut effect is desired. 
This refers to hand work on carving and irregular surfaces. 
On plain surfaces and straight mouldings, the effect is pro- 
duced by shaping the planing tool on the machine, for soft 
stone and indeed marble are almost universally cut by ma- 
chinery. The bed rubbing or honing is generally obtained by 
laying the stone face down on a large turning table that whirls 
horizontally, the attendant simply seeing that plenty of sand 


SKYSCRAPER BUILDING-STONE Q11 


and water are at all times kept in the path of the stone as the 
turning disc abrades the surface. 

There are, of course, a great many ways of cutting stone 
surfaces; the few here mentioned are given simply to lead the 
reader’s attention to some of the standard cuttings, so that the 
effects of surface appearances will be better understood. 

There are notable buildings of granite that are not of sky- 
Scraper type, but which demonstrate the perfection to which 
the granite-cutter’s art may be carried. The State, War and 
Navy and the Treasury buildings in Washington are examples 
of beautiful granite cutting, whatever one may think of their 
architectural design. 

Probably the greatest stone cutting and setting job of all 
time, where perfection of workmanship predominated, the 
number and size of massive stones considered, is the Lincoln 
Memorial in Washington. It is of Colorado Yule marble with 
Indiana limestone interior walls and pink Tennessee marble 
floor. The statue of Lincoln is of Georgia marble. Again we 
have in this building some of the principles of the skyscraper, 
for structural steel is used extensively. Henry Bacon, the archi- 
tect of that superb structure, who gave the last fifteen years of 
his life to the study, design and erection of the Memorial, is 
quoted as saying that it contained more large stones than any 
other structure ever built. Each stone in the stylobate, as well as 
the individual stones in the drums of the columns forming the 
great colonnade around the building, weighs over twelve tons, 
—most of them from sixteen to eighteen tons each. The In- 
diana limestone lintels of the interior weigh over twenty-five 
tons each, and in the whole structure there are over a thou- 
sand individual stones ranging in weight from twelve to twen- 
ty-five tons. 

Here in this structure, stone cutting and stone setting prob- 
ably reached the highest perfection ever attained in American 
construction, and it is doubtful whether it will reach these 


212 SKYSCRAPERS 


heights again for generations to come. Its mighty dignity and 
impressive beauty could only have arisen from the magnificent 
human attainment that the Memorial was built to commemo- 


rate. 


Courtesy of Kittanning Brick & Fire Clay Co. 


Interior brick-making crew showing off-bearing belt, pug-mills, automatic cutters, drying- 
cars, etc. 


CHAPTER XVII 


BRICK, TERRA-COTTA AND THE CERAMICS—THE TECH-— 
NIC OF CERAMIC MASONRY 


THERE is always friendly contest between the advocates of 
various building materials as to their durability and usefulness, 
and having discussed stone as a building material, considera- 
tion of its great rival, brick, should come next in order, for 
brick has always been a worthy competitor of stone. Of 
late years, the archeologists have actually elevated the prosaic 
matter of brick work to the dignity of a news item, owing to 
their discoveries of the ancient cylinders on which the cunei- 
form records of the Chaldeans and earlier peoples were kept. 
The ancient city of Ur has almost been reconstructed in our 
minds by the unearthing of great mounds of brick which turn 
out to have been their libraries of public and private records. 
Those ancient civilizations had learned the art of burning 
brick, the earliest excursion in the field of ceramics; yet they 
ran side by side with another civilization which had not ad- 
vanced so far, but rather had constructed its brick merely by 
drying clay, mixing it with straw as a binder. Thus, the bib- 
lical reference to making bricks without straw reflects an an- 
cient lament based on a really practical need. It was impossi- 
ble for those old Hebraic brickmakers to carry on their art 
without straw, and they let the world know about it. 

But it is of the burned brick we speak, because that art 
seems to have been known to all civilizations. The Orientals 
had it, as did the races of the Near East. It is not the intention 
here to trace the history, but rather to show that in all civiliza- 
tion burned brick has played, and still plays, an indispensable 
part. Modern sporadic excursions into the field of Portland 

213 


ENTRANCE DETAIL. 
Theodore A. Meyer, Architect. 


A carefully prepared brick lay-out, show- 
ing courses and jointing, and its appear- 
ance after construction. 


English bond—alternate courses of headers and stretchers. Two patterns are 
here revealed by the use of dark headers and stretchers. 


Courtesy of Fredenburg & Lounsbury. 


English bond that is made to look like Flemish bond through the use of dark and 
light brick. 


Running or stretcher bond, sometimes called American bond, with headers 
every fourth course; an adaptation of the English bond. Note the color varia- 
tions and deep joints to give color effect. 


Courtesy of Fredenburg & Lounsbury. 


216 SKYSCRAPERS 


cement and pressed lime brick have in no way disturbed the 
supremacy of burned brick, and to-day it should not be 
thought of so much as a rival of stone but as a complement 
and necessary team-mate of stone in the production of our sky- 
scraper. The possibilities of its color variations are legion, from 
the very whitest to black, ranging through all tones and styles. 
Modern brick makers can produce almost any color, yet cer- 
tain fundamentals seem to hold their place even though styles 
and ornamentations change. 

It is not necessary to describe the mere act of bricklaying; 
that is too commonplace and every one knows how it goes. 
Yet the building of the curtain wall of the modern skyscraper 
calls for a technic that may be summed up in the term “ever- 
lasting vigilance.” These great, exposed wall surfaces of sky- 
scrapers receive from the elements a punishment that is little 
appreciated by those who sit warmly behind the protection 
they afford. Yet, in the production of the walls so tight and 
safe, the builder’s art has been exercised to its utmost. First the 
wall must surround and completely encase the exterior of the 
structure. While it is carried from floor to floor on spandrel 
beams, the wall must be so surely and truly laid that the driv- 
ing storms will not penetrate. When water drives through, as 
it does all too frequently, the brick work is at fault. Therefore, 
the competent builder exercises great care in seeing that the 
work is solidly built, solidly tied in to the steel and carefully 
pointed on the exterior. The whole object is to produce an im- 
pervious exterior with the joints between the windows and 
brick work thoroughly caulked and sealed. 

And having touched upon this prosy technic, we are back 
to the interest in color and appearance, for the visual appeal is 
the important thing to the observer, even if it is not to the user 
of the building. Perhaps the first thing observed is the “bond” 
of the brick; that is, the manner in which the outside courses 
of brick are bonded to the body of the wall. There are in fact 


Two interesting variations of Flemish bond to give “texture.” 
Texture may be further emphasized by deep or flush joints of vari- 
ous kinds, and mortar colors. 


Courtesy of Fredenburg & Lounsbury. 


218 SKYSCRAPERS 


only two real bonds—the so-called English bond, where a row 
of ‘‘headers” or ends of the brick are alternated with a row 
of “stretchers,” the sides or long dimension of the brick. The 
other is the Flemish bond, where a header and a stretcher are 
alternately used. Where walls eight inches or thicker are built 
—and brick walls in skyscrapers are almost universally about 
twelve inches thick—it is apparent that brick thus laid will 
knit in and join with the body of the wall, and when thor- 
ough work is done, the result is a homogeneous mass and, as 
has been said, impervious. | 

Behind the face brick, which are generally a better and 
more selected quality, comes the backing of common brick. 
Common brick are inferior to face brick only because they are 
common. They are just as well burned, just as hard and just 
as durable a building material. Face brick, as its name implies, 
is simply an exterior color dressing to add an artistic effect to 
the solidity of the wall of which it is a part. 

The bonds of a brick wall are not to be confused with its 
texture or color effects obtained by mixing different colors of 
brick, making endless variations of the two basic bonds, or of 
laying brick in unusual ways. Thus, a brick may sometimes 
be laid with its end exposed, but standing on edge. Bricks thus 
laid are technically known as rowlocks. A rowlock course is 
frequently shown, and called for in specifications. Similarly, 
when brick are laid vertically—their long dimension in a ver- 
tical position—they are spoken of as soldier brick; a soldier 
course is here called for. With these variations of position and 
variations of color or shade, with variations of bond spacing, 
an infinite variety of pattern is obtained in the facades of the 
buildings. Some of our most beautiful effects of textures are 
nothing more than arrangements of brick jointing and shad- 
ing, all variations on the play of the English and Flemish 
bonds. 


Occasionally one sees a continuous, running bond; that is, 


BRICK, TERRA-COTTA, AND THE CERAMICS) 219 


without any headers showing. It has its uses in small areas and 
for certain artistic effects, but it always brings a shudder to 
the eye of the trained builder. It produces an unnatural effect, 
because the builder’s eye demands an evidence of the face be- 
ing bonded to the body of the wall. Where this effect is de- 
sired, it is necessary to tie the face to the body of the wall with 
metal clips, a questionable practice; or every few courses, the 
corners of the face brick are clipped off, and common brick 
running diagonally into the body of the wall aré inserted into 
the interstices left by these adjoining clipped ends. This is 
better than using metal clips, but is not as good as the sub- 
stantial and natural bonding by the old-fashioned use of 
headers and stretchers. 

Face brick used to be called pressed brick a few decades 
ago, and the American fashion of bricklaying during the pe- 
riod of our architectural decadence—say from the Civil War 
until the World’s Fair—demanded great precision and ac- 
curacy of brick sizes and bonds. Those were the days of the 
old, red brick fronts, for during that period there was not 
available a great variety of texture and color. A red brick 
front was the symbol of stolid elegance. 

It was not until skyscrapers had come well into their own 
that architects commenced realizing the possibilities of texture 
and color variation. Suddenly they discovered that beautiful 
effects were to be obtained by mixing the shades of brick; that 
precision of brick sizes and laying produced too formal a re- 
sult. In this new field of variegation and variety of texture, 
the brick makers took a leading part, with the result that to- 
day the warm and pleasing effects of our best facades are 
largely obtained by a freedom from precise colors and me- 
chanical perfection of workmanship. : 

In seeking variations in color and warmth of texture, many 
new ways of cutting and moulding the brick were devised. 
One large brick manufacturer got the inspiration of calling his 


290) SKYSCRAPERS 


product “tapestry brick.” The name seized the imagination 
of the public, which at once commenced to apply it to all 
warm, variegated brick surfaces of interesting texture, par- 
ticularly if tans and browns prevailed. Strictly speaking, tapes- 
try brick is the proprietary product of a prominent brick manu- 
facturer, but the public, no doubt, will continue appreciatively 
to designate its favorite brick surfaces as tapestry, regardless 
of the manufacturing origin. 

We have said that common brick is just as good and just 
as hard as any other brick. This, of course, means good com- 
mon brick, for in the market place we hear of “salmon” brick 
and “‘clinker” brick. The former is admittedly inferior, is 
more porous, less durable, and perhaps even unsafe to use. 
Salmon brick comes from the part of the kiln farthest from 
the fire. The ancient brick makers expected to obtain only a 
certain percentage of good, hard brick out of any kiln. Sal- 
mons were the necessary and unwelcome by-product, which 
were sold at any price they would bring and without recourse. 

From the other side of the kiln, that is, the part nearest the 
fire, come the clinker brick. These are exposed to too great 
heat and show a tendency to melt and become deformed un- 
der the weight of the bricks piled upon them in the kiln. 

In their search for variegation and variety of texture, archi- 
tects occasionally hit upon clinker bricks for certain special 
effects. They are rough, irregular, have a tendency to bluish- 
gray color, and are almost vitreous in their hardness. We do 
not see clinker brick used in large, metropolitan buildings as 
frequently as in country residences, but wherever they are 
used, they are durable and sound, however unsightly the in- 
dividual brick may appear. Some one has said that beauty is 
in the eye of the beholder, an aphorism that is fully proven 
where extensive use is made of clinker brick. 

The process of brick manufacture, like other materials en- 
tering into building construction, has undergone an improve- 


BRICK, TERRA-COTTA, AND THE CERAMICS 292] 


ment that has kept pace with the development of the building 
industry itself. For thousands of years brick were produced in 
the same old way. First the bricks were cast in moulds. Then 
they were dried, or partially dried, under protection from the 
rain and the elements. After the drying process, they were 
stacked in kilns so as to admit of fire being built in tunnels or 
flues running through the kilns. Wood, and later coal, was 
used as fuel, and after several days of burning under continu- 
ous heat, the fires were allowed to die out, and then for several 
days more the thoroughly heated kiln was allowed to cool. 
As soon as the bricks were cool enough to be handled, the 
kilns were torn apart and the bricks assorted according to 
quality, the salmons, as has been noted, cast aside as inferior, 
and in earlier days, the clinkers too were thrown out as utterly 
worthless. The main body of the burning was the net product 
of sound brick, and the brick maker’s art turned upon his 
ability to produce the fewest salmons and clinkers, and of 
course, the greatest number of sound brick. 

Under any of two or three modern processes, brick making 
is a very certain operation, and the waste in clinkers and sal- 
mons is relatively small. Nowadays, the moulded brick from 
the brick machines are piled on small cars, shoved into long 
drying tunnels, where the heat coming from the kilns passes 
over the brick, thus greatly accelerating the drying process. 
The arrangement is such that the cars pass very slowly through 
these drying tunnels, which are so constructed as to admit of 
the greatest possible length of trackage back and forth as the 
cars approach the kiln. As they approach, the heat grows more 
intense, and by the time the cars have passed through the full 
length of the tunnels, the moulded brick are dry and ready for 
stacking. From here they pass into permanent kilns scientifi- 
cally arranged, with the firing so devised that the heat is al- 
most uniform throughout the kiln. The brick come from the 
kiln without the necessity of tearing it down. These kilns are 


229 SKYSCRAPERS 


> 


sometimes called “Dutch Ovens,” although there are many 
modern forms to which this could not be applied. Firing may 
be by coal or natural gas, and more recently, by crude oil. 

The greatest advance in brick burning, naturally, is found 
in the manufacture of face brick, where the quality of the 
product warrants every refinement of manufacture, burning 
and handling. | 

When skyscrapers were first built, there was a problem in 
connection with laying the exterior walls. In the days before 
skyscrapers, scaffoldings could be constructed from the ground 
and carried up even to a height of six stories, as this was about 
the ultimate requirement. It is true that smokestacks of great 
height had been built before that time, and the thing was ac- 
complished by laying the work from the inside, a scaffold and 
hoist being constructed all the way up. Working from the in- 
side of a wall in the manner pursued in building stacks 1s 

called laying the brick “‘overhand.” It is not an easy thing to 
_ do, particularly when fine workmanship is required. Even 
now we sometimes see the rear walls of buildings laid over- 
hand, but to do fine face brick, it is absolutely necessary for 
the workmen to stand out in front of their work in order that 
the jointing and coursing may be truly and accurately done. 

The early builders devised a system of outriggers built on 
the floors, which were in effect little cantilever bridges made 
on plank stood on edge, suitably trussed and braced, on which 
platforms would be built, and as the work rose, horse scaffold- 
ing would be constructed to take care of about every five or six 
feet in height. A story having been finished in this way, the 
scaffolding gang would go on ahead of the bricklayers as soon 
as the sills on the floor above had been laid, stick their “pud- 
locks” through the window frames and prepare another scaf- 
fold of the same sort on the floor above. In this way the proc- 
ess would be repeated over and over again until the top of the 
building was reached. The system presented difficulties espe- 


Topping out a building. The suspending cables have 

been wound up on the drums from the bottom of the 

building, and the masonry will be finished either from 

horse scaffolds standing on top of outrigger beams, 
or will be laid overhand from the inside. 


* 


Courtesy of Turner Construction Co. 


Courtesy of Patent Sca folding Co. 


The modern bricklayer in winter within a scaffold- 

ing enclosure. The salamander in the background 

keeps him warm, and his mortar is tempered in hot 
water. 


NEW JERSEY TELEPHONE BUILDING, NEWARK, N. J. 
Curtain walls and enclosed scaffolds, showing the complete dependence of 
the exterior walls on the spandrel beams of the steel frame. Canvas en- 
closures are placed around the scaffolding for the protection of the work- 
men in winter. 


Q94 SKYSCRAPERS 


cially at the corners of the building where the pudlocks would 
have to stand out on a diagonal in order to carry the scaffold- 
ing around the corners. Thus, holes had to be left in the cor- 
ners, which were afterward filled up by workmen being let 
down over the outside of the building on swinging scaffolds. 
On some of our structures built during that period, an ex- 
perienced builder can still see the places where these corner 
pudlock holes occurred. At best the system was awkward and 
clumsy. 

This method has been superseded by the hanging scaffold, 
which is now almost universally used. It is an ingenious de- 
vice which, by means of little winches located along the scaf- 
fold, enables the workmen constantly to be working at the 
most convenient height, about waist high. As the wall is built 


up, laborers work back and forth along these scaffolds, taking 


up on the small winches, so that the brick work goes on con- 
tinuously and without the interruption that the old pudlock 
system inevitably required. On very high buildings, it is some- 
times expedient to set the outriggers in two sections, the first 
from, say, about the twentieth floor, while they are yet setting 
steel on floors away above this point. This enables the builder 
to build a great deal of the exterior brick wall before the steel 
is finally completed, thus saving time—the ever-present re- 
quirement of skyscraper construction. 

Architectural terra-cotta, like brick, is a heritage from an- 
cient times, and while it cannot claim the same early origin, 
we know that the art was highly advanced during the Re- 
naissance, and to-day the work of the great Italian artist, Della 
Robbia, bespeaks the highest development of the ceramic art. 
Modern terra-cotta is actually somewhat different from the 
product of Della Robbia, but our modern manufacturers look 
to him as their goa and their progenitor. | 

It is probably true that the modern skyscraper is almost 
solely responsible for the high development of the art of terra- 


The fire which destroyed the wooden scaffolds sur- _ A scaffolding frame made entirely of pipes with fire- 

rounding the Sherry-Netherland Hotel, New York. proof wood planking from which the ornamented 

The structure was little damaged by this fire, due to copper roofing and bronze lantern of the New York 
its fireproof construction. Life Insurance Company Building was built. 


Ppa 


Cathedral of St. John the Divine, New York, where light, modern pipe scaffolding sup- 
plants the cumbersome wooden work formerly used. 


Courtesy of Chesebro, Whitman Co., Inc. 


2296 SKYSCRAPERS 


cotta manufacture. First used’in our post Civil War decadent 
architecture as a reddish material, by-product of the old pressed 
brick works, it has, in the last twenty-five years, “been raised 
to one of the most scientific of the liberal arts. The beautiful 
effects obtainable in terra-cotta so far transcend the dreams of 
its advocates of even twenty years ago, that in its modern form 
terra-cotta might be said to be a new building material. 

We have spoken of it as a substitute for stone, because in 
one of its many variations, it can be made in almost perfect 
imitation of any of the Baillie stones used in exteriors. Then, 
it is used as a material by itself in an infinite variety of shades 
and colors. Finally, as a polychrome, it is being used more and 
more, and the striking enamel finishes obtainable in this beau- 
tiful material have opened up new fields of architectural orna- 
mentation. 

Terra-cotta basically is made as brick is made. Like some of 
the higher grade face brick, it receives a surface coloration 
apart from the body of its structure. This surface finish is 
technically known as the “slip.” In the development of tex- 
tures and colors, ceramic scientists of the terra-cotta factories 
have drawn from all other branches of the science of ceramics 
in the production of colors and enamels. 

Like stone work, architectural terra-cotta is made from dia- 
grams, but owing to its plastic origin, it can be worked into a 
greater variety of shapes and forms. Moreover, terra-cotta is re- 
lieved of excessive weight by hollowing out the backs of the 
pieces, for it is to be remembered that it is seldom used struc- 
turally; and as a form of ornamentation, it need only be of suf- 
ficient strength to retain its position in the wall, and more 
essentially, to withstand the action of the elements. Good terra- 
cotta is everlasting, just as good brick is everlasting. In its in- 
ferior grades, the slip may be its undoing, for, unless the sur- 
face is carefully made and the firing done with skill and under- 
standing, water will penetrate this material and the succeeding 


Courtesy of Atlantic Terra Cotta Co. 


The modelling shop of a modern terra-cotta plant. On the walls are models made for the architects. 


Courtesy of Federal Terra Coita Co. 


Terra-cotta clay being pressed in the mould by hand, Setting the finished body in the kilns after receiving 
where it is left for two days before being turned out the ceramic coating. 
and dried. The mould was made from a plaster model. 


298 SKYSCRAPERS 


frosts will be its ruination. But it is of the better grade of terra- 
cotta that we speak here. 

One of the reasons for good terra-cotta is the everlasting vigi- 
lance of its manufacturers. The clay is carefully selected and 
analyzed, even more carefully prepared, and throughout the 
process, every step is watched; but before there can be any 
making, the same vigilance must preside over the preliminary 
work. We have seen that it starts with diagrams, a science in 
itself, for the diagram draftsman must be cognizant of the 
technic. All jointing must be carefully considered and anchor- 
ing provided for; the limitations of the material must be fully 
understood. 

Terra-cotta makers work with a special rule on which the 
inches and feet are about eight per cent longer than the ordi- 
nary rule; thus, a ceramic worker’s foot is about thirteen inches 
in this shrinkage scale, and the fractional divisions are, of 
course, proportionately extended; for it is to allow for shrink- 
age of the material in firing that this allowance is made. 

After the diagraming, separate moulds are made for every 
different piece. If straight-away, plain work, these moulds are 
of plaster of paris; if heavily ornamented, they are made of 
some form of toughened gelatine or a composition of glue and 
plaster of paris—something to form a tough, durable mould. 

Where elaborate ornamentation is involved, skilled model- 
lers prepare clay models of the parts, and architect’s specifica- 
tions generally lay great stress on the question as to who the 
modeller shall be. Such models are inspected in the clay, re- 
touched and worked over until the architect is satisfied, and 
when approved, the glue or gelatine is poured over them in 
preparation for the making of a plaster counterpart. The mak- 
ing of moulds for large and complicated ornamental composi- 
_tions is again part of the technic of terra-cotta making, and the 
possibilities of reproduction must be known by the modeller. 
Manufacturers are alert to eliminate “undercut” ornamenta- 


of Atlantic Terra Cotta Co. Courtesy of Kittanning Brick & Fire Cla 


Clays from which building ceramics are obtained. Making hollow tile fireproofing. The clay is ground 
The mining is carefully supervised to insure uniform and mixed with water, excreted through the dies of 
quality. the machine and is cut rectangularly. 


Courtesy of Atlantic Terra Cotta Co. 


Kilns in which the terra-cotta is burned, and the finished terra-cotta ready for shipment. The kilns hold from 
thirty to fifty tons each at one burning. 


230 SKYSCRAPERS 


tion on account of the difficulties that ensue in the mould-mak- 
ing, and in the pressing room where the next step occurs. 

In the pressing room, the carefully prepared clay of just the 
right consistency is pressed into the moulds, the backs of the — 
pieces being scooped out by the hands of the pressers. These 
men know just how thick the walls of the pieces must be and 
just the amount of ribbing that must be left to support the 
finished pieces for handling and shipping, and for setting into 
their final places i in the structure they are to adorn. 

After pressing into the moulds, the pieces are allowed to dry 
for a few days and are then carefully removed from the moulds. 
At this stage, the pieces will stand careful handling and they 
are removed to where the “‘slip”’ is applied. Now the slip is to 
terra-cotta what the enamel is to the china plate. Beyond its 
beauty of form, all of the beauty of terra-cotta lies in its slip; 
also its durability, assuming the piece has been properly de- 
signed and made. The slip is, of course, only applied to the ex- 
posed surfaces; that part which beds into the wall ee left as 
it comes from the moulds. 

The slip is generally sprayed on in modern terra-cotta plants, 
although where intricate polychrome work is done it must be 
applied with a brush much as a china painter paints china; but, 
of course, on a scale commensurate with the large work we are 
discussing. It is in the preparation and application of the slip 
that the greatest development of terra-cotta making has been 
achieved in late years. The observer can get no idea of the color 
or texture of the slip before it is fired. Gold may look like brown 
paint, and colors widely different may look much the same as 
they are being applied. The ceramic engineers and chemists 
work entirely by the chemistry of their product, serenely sure 
of the ultimate appearance of the material they are making. 

When the slip has dried sufficiently to permit of handling 
the pieces, they are carefully conveyed to the kilns, where they 
are as carefully piled, with interstices between them to allow 


Courtesy of Federal Terra Cotta Co. 
Terra-cotta modellers at work. Left, the noted modeller, Angelo Ricci. 


Courtesy of Federal Terra Cotta Co. 


A large terra-cotta arch is being assembled and fitted. From this position it will be carefully packed in freight- 
cars or on trucks. Shipping lists are carefully made and each piece checked and re-checked as it is loaded, and 
the same care is exercised at the building upon the arrival of the material. 


232 SKYSCRAPERS 


the heat of the kiln to circulate freely around every piece, also 
to insure that the slipped surfaces shall not touch, for they will 
fuse together under terrific heat if they are not thus separated. 

And now the kiln is loaded, piled to capacity with pieces 
ready for the firing. Manufacturers of terra-cotta try to put 
as much material as possible for a single job in one kiln, first 
because it is an assurance of uniformity of color, and also be- 
cause it is easier to keep track of the work, for the marking, 
recording and checking is an important part of the business 
of terra-cotta making. | 

For five days or more the fires in the kilns burn night and 
day, maintaining a continuous heat of about twenty-two hun- 
dred degrees Fahrenheit, a heat that would keep steel cherry- 
red or would melt ordinary commercial glass. The heat may 
be produced from coal or coke, or from gas or crude oil. What- 
ever the fuel, the supervision of the kilns while firing is one of 
constant vigilance. Pyrometers inserted at proper places in the 
kilns warn of slight temperature changes, and when these oc- 
cur, corrective measures are taken to insure the necessary uni- 
formity and constancy of the kiln heat. Small observation 
holes permit of frequent visual inspection of the material as 
the firing goes on. 

After five days have elapsed, the fires are allowed to die 
out, and for a couple of days the kiln cools off gradually until 
the finished material is sufficiently cool to permit of handling. 
Again an inspection; faulty or defective pieces are rejected and 
notation for quick replacement made. Where there is con- 
siderable repetition of a single diagram, a few extra pieces 
have been made, so that, unless the occasional defective piece 
is some special of which there are no duplicates, the “overs”’ 
generally take care of the loss and there is no interruption at 
the building. 

We sometimes see the fagade of a building under construc- 
tion scarred by a gaping hole, the obvious location of a piece 


Courtesy of Federal Terra Cotta Co. Courtesy of Atlantic Terra Cotta Co. 


Finished terra-cotta being set up and fitted prepara- Setting the terra-cotta colurn capital at the 31st story 
tory to shipment. level of the New York Central Building,, New York. 


eee 


Courtesy of Federal Terra Cotta Co. 


Blowing the slin before burning. This terra-cotta is pressed and dried but not burned. The operator is coating 
the body with a ceramic finish, either glazed or unglazed, preparatory to its being placed in the kilns. 


ISA SKYSCRAPERS 


of terra-cotta. This means that, through some defect or acci- 
dent at the kiln or in transit, the missing piece was not avail- 
able when the masons were at that point in the work. The 
builder knows in advance of this shortage from his expediters 
and receiving clerks, and simply leaves the place for it to be 
filled in at a later date—generally when the masons are clean- 
ing down the building shortly before final completion. Such 
occasional omissions do no harm. The piece when set will fit 
snugly into place, and the firm anchoring of the adjacent 
pieces insures a solidity to the whole work, of which the be- 
lated piece, when set, becomes an integral part. 

From the kilns the pieces go to the fitters, who place them 
carefully together about as they will occur in the wall. Any 
little trimming or fitting that is to be done receives attention 
here. The material is now ready for shipment, and its further 
progress is merely the commercial operation of checking, list- 
ing and billing. | 

The expediter from the builder’s organization has known 
of the material’s every step from approval of drawings to final 
checking, and his report to the main office is likely to carry 
between its lines a sigh of relief; for there is no other material 
entering into the construction of a skyscraper that passes 
through so many specialized processes arising out of the par- 
ticular need of the structure for which it is made. 

It takes from six to ten weeks after drawings are completed 
and models approved to obtain terra-cotta. Therefore, it must 
be apparent that one of the early decisions must be the terra- 
cotta design, the exact extent to which it will be used, its color, 
form and special modelling. Builders endeavor to obtain these 
decisions as soon as the structural steel questions are out of the 
way. The proper logistical handling of this material is of spe- 
cial importance, for it is bulky and easily damaged, particu- 
larly where fine ornament is involved, and therefore, terra- 
cotta should be subjected to the minimum of handling. A care- 


BRICK, TERRA-COTTA, AND THE CERAMICS 235 


fully prepared schedule will permit of handling it from kilns 
to cars, thence to the job ready to lay it out and sort it on the 
floors immediately behind the places where it will be used in 
the wall. 

Terra-cotta is being used increasingly for beautiful interiors, 
and when so used, it is scheduled with the interior finishes, 
such as marble and bronze. In this case it is not so vital to give 
it a place in the early requirements, but the inevitable six to 
ten weeks should never be lost sight of. 

The material is set by bricklayers, not stonemasons as one 
might suppose. The cutting and fitting also must be done by 
bricklayers. 

With this brief outline of terra-cotta we will leave the ex- 
terior of the building for, while there are many other im- 
portant operations in completing the enclosure, they cannot 
claim the special interest that attaches to the more specialized 
operations which have become identified with our skyscraper 
construction. Roofing and sheet-metal work are prosy, work- 
a-day operations, unless we have a large sheet-metal cornice to 
hang. The roofing itself is done with care, and the science has 
been so far developed that, given a good specification with suf- 
ficient appropriation to secure a thoroughly first-class job, the 
work causes the builder little concern. The best flat roofs we 
see are constructed of five-ply tar and felt on a cement surface, 
as well laid as a smooth sidewalk. On top of this water-proof 
membrane is generally laid the tile surface we see—pleasing 
and durable, for roofing tile has come to be a standard article, 
vitreous and everlasting if properly treated. In and through 
the parapet walls, which are usually more than three feet high 
above the general roof level, copper flashings have been built. 
The expert roofer knows how to seal the membrane to the 
flashings and how to make everything securely water-proof, if 
he is but given his way. Where surfaces are large—more than 
fifty to seventy-five feet square, let us say—expansion joints 


236 SKYSCRAPERS 


are introduced by constructing a hollow sheet copper rib or 
seam across the area, and this is sealed to the membrane by a 
hot mopping of tar, just as the flashings are. There are many 
ways to accomplish this allowance for expansion, and the one 
here given 1s by way of illustration. 

Where sloping roofs occur, copper may be used, and if it 1s, 
great care must be exercised at all hips and valleys and at the — 
edges, for copper has a way of weaving and tugging at its 
moorings under the action of heat and cold. Sheet lead roofs 
are of ancient origin, and were used by the cathedral builders 
of old. The roof of the Cathedral at Cologne was ripped off 
at the direction of Napoleon and cast into bullets for his army, — 
but long after the passing of Napoleon, the roof was restored — 
in Jead, and even to this day it seems to be the best roofing 
available for the great cathedrals throughout Europe. In our 
American cities, lead seems to yield to the action of the ele- 
ments. Perhaps this is due to the peculiar acidity of our smoky . 
city atmosphere. The subject is still controversial between the | 
advocates of various roofing materials. 

Many architects are specifying lead-coated copper for slop- 
ing roofs, on the theory that, by this method, the pleasing ap- 
pearance of lead is obtained while at the same time the greater 
durability of copper insures a more lasting roof. 

Tile roofing is also ancient and also very good, and its 
method of application is about the same as it has been ever 
since such roofs were first used. 

Sloping roofs are being used increasingly by architects of 
these tall buildings, due in part to the setback laws and in 
part to an increased appreciation on the part of owners of the 
requirement to house-in water tanks and unsightly excrescences 
on the roof tops. The development has added a new note of 
interest to our large cities, a commendable variation in our na- 
tional contribution to design—the skyscraper. 


Courtesy of weneral Bronze Co., Inc. 


Moulders pouring the molten metal for a piece of beautiful interior bronze work. 


Ti 


; 
ri] 
ae sae 


Courtesy of General Bronze Co., Inc. 


Part of the great bronze lantern that surmounts the 


Model for a bronze door, from which the moulds are 
New York Life Insurance Company Building, New made, 
York. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


INTERIOR STRUCTURE 


WE have seen that the enclosure of the building is a turning 
point of great importance to the builder and a major goal to- 
ward which his efforts have been chiefly directed, but after all, 
it is only a milestone, and long before the steel has reached 
the top, much of the material that goes to make up the in- 
terior has been ordered and is well under way. Immediately 
after signing the contract for the work, the builder turns his 
attention to the all-important business of subletting those parts 
that, through trade practice and the nature of the industry, 
must of necessity be sublet. Certain items, such as elevators, 
cut stone, terra-cotta, marble work, millwork or steel interior 
trim, must be sublet, for no builder has within his organiza- 
tion the facilities to do these lines of work. Structural steel 
must be purchased from the fabricators for the obvious rea- 
son that the fabricators’ claim to economy of operation arises 
from an annual tonnage far greater than any one builder 
could ever hope to use. The builder may elect to set the steel, 
but excepting in rare cases, the principal justification of this 
is the desirability of controlling the progress, for, as we have 
seen, the time schedule revolves about the delivery and com- 
pletion of the steel structure. Likewise, plumbing, heating and 
electrical work are almost invariably sublet, for a builder 
would have to command a prodigious volume 1 in order to ab- 
sorb the overhead and shop capacity that govern the economi- 
cal installation of these lines of work. 

Trade custom is a pretty safe guide. Some lines proclaim 

238 


INTERIOR STRUCTURE 239 


themselves as necessarily to be sublet, as we have seen. Others 
have been found by long practice to be most economically per- 
formed by sub-contractors, even though the builder may have 
the necessary qualifications to do the work; and some lines of 
work, such as cement floors, concrete floor arches and, Oc- 
casionally, carpentry, are even yet in the twilight zone where 
it may be advisable or expedient to sublet them on one job, 
while, on another, the builder would be well advised to per- 
form the same work direct. It is in the clear judging and 
proper disposition of these matters that the capable builder ex- 
cels.- 

The floor arches are a necessary accompaniment to the struc- 
tural steel, first because building laws almost universally re- 
quire that they follow within two or three stories of the floor 
on which the derrick works, but beyond this because they are 
useful places of storage for materials that swiftly follow the 
steel. Builders can remember when this was not so, and as late 
as 1900, steel skeletons of some very large buildings were 
erected complete before even the first floor arches were laid. 
The accidents to the steel erectors were, of course, proportion- 
ately higher, and the seemingly unnecessary casualties of such 
operaticns brought them under the proper scrutiny of city 
authorities, the result being the laws that, as has been said, are 
now very generally in force. 

But to return to the floor arches. The spectator thinks of an 
arch as that graceful curving part of the structure generally 
found over doors and windows, and it is something of a tax 
on the imagination to contemplate the flat slab structures be- 
tween the floor beams of a skyscraper as “arches.” We have 
seen that the earliest endeavors toward non-inflammable struc- 
tures were by means of brick arches actually put up in accor- 
dance with the orthodox notion of such construction when it 
was in vogue, and we have also seen that Kreischer, through 
his invention of the flat arch of hollow tile, greatly improved 


240 SKYSCRAPERS 


the original masonry floor arch. Every layman, of course, 
knows that the flat arch holds a normal and legitimate place 
in architecture, and it takes no stretch of the imagination to 
perceive one of the principles of Kreischer’s patent that had 
been established by its predecessor in the wall, the Jack arch. 
A Jack arch gets its name from the resemblance to the crown 
on the jack in a deck of playing cards. In the orthodox deck, © 
that whimsical head-piece looks like the construction of cer- 
tain window heads that are sometimes seen in either stone or 
brick, although the similarity is most apparent in a brick Jack 
arch. 

The hollow tile principle having been accepted, it came to 
be carried out in two ways; first, where the flues in the tiles 
ran longitudinally or parallel to the floor beams between which 
the arches were built. This is called a “‘side-construction’”’ floor 
arch, and is easily recognized by the seeming lop-sidedness of 
all the pieces excepting the keys, which hold the symmetrical 
form characteristic of an arch key wherever found. The sec- 
ond method, known as “‘end construction,’ derives its name 
from the fact that the flues in the tile, instead of running par- 
allel to the supporting floor beams, run at right angles thereto, 
the ends of the webs coming in contact thus forming a series 
of flues transversely through the floor arch. This latter method 
has the manufacturing advantage of being cut from a single 
rectangular column of clay as it is excreted from the machine, 
the wire cutting being made at various angles to conform with 
the radial lines of the arch of which the various shaped pieces 
are to be a part. Standardization, both in arch construction 
and in spacing the floor beams, has simplified this question 
of the radial cuts, or slopes; for in either construction, a beam 
spacing of from five to six feet can be met by the same radial 
formation, because any discrepancies from true parallel of the 
radial surfaces will be made up by the mortar in which the 
arches are laid. The tile that fills into the beam at the starting 


INTERIOR STRUCTURE Q41 


of the arch is called the skew-back, and the intermediate blocks 
between the skew-back and the key are sometimes called vous- 
soirs. The key is what its name has always meant when arches 
are discussed. The argument still rages as to whether side or 
end is the better form of construction. The fact is that they are 
about equally good and both are very much stronger than 
would be required for the ordinary loading. | 

Any consideration of floor arches must include the inge- 
nious development of Guastavino, that interesting artist en- 
gineer who, a half-century ago, started experimenting with 
ceramic tiles, of which he was a past-master in the making, 
with the view of using them structurally. The advent of skele- 
ton construction gave the impetus needed for his work, for, 
although the laminated arch construction which he carried to 
such complete and artistic solution had been used prior to his 
time, the development was his, and already the Guastavino 
arch has almost generic significance in describing a type now 
so generally used, where the combination of a beautiful ce- 
ramic, domed or vaulted under-surface, combined with light 
weight and thinness of construction and great strength are de- 
sired. The under side of any arch resisting gravitation is called 
the soffit. Guastavino soffits are known the world over and 
may be recognized by their pleasing use of the simple forms of 
which they are made. Generally about four by eight inches, 
plainly rectangular in form, they are laid sometimes in run- 
ning bond, sometimes in herring-bone pattern, sometimes in- 
terspersed with beautifully colored ceramic borders or pat- 
terns; always fitting and beautiful in the hands of a competent 
architect. The Guastavino arch gets its strength from the cam- 
ber of its form. The individual tiles are generally less than an 
inch thick, and they conform to the dome or vault ceiling 
which they are to form by the slight changes in plane of the 
individual pieces as they form the concave surface we see. Ce- 
ment mortar joints between the tiles permit of this, and after 


242 SKYSCRAPERS 


the work has been laid and the mortar set, the joints are 
pointed up, giving a mesh-like pattern to the surface. 

Where a barrel vault or a groined ceiling is involved, a cen- 
tre or form must first be laid, in principle, the centre that any 
arch demands until its keystone is set. The work 1s started by 
laying a lamination of these tiles with their predetermined ce- 
ramic color scheme face down on the centre. One layer having 
been laid, the masons go back over the upper surface of it with 


another layer, sometimes called “filler” tile, just as hard- 


burned, but of course, omitting the costly enamel surface. This 
second layer is so laid that the joints “‘stagger’’ with the first 
layer, and being bedded on the first in a layer of Portland ce- 
ment mortar, the construction takes on the form of a homo- 
geneous whole. On this second layer a third is laid. By this 
time a shell of exceeding strength has been developed, the 
number of laminations, of course, determining the strength. 
Ordinarily three layers or laminations are all that are neces- 
sary. Where very wide spans are involved, and the work can 
be done in spans up to fifty or even seventy- -five feet, the lami- 
nations are increased, occasionally up to seven or eight layers 
in the great domes or vaults we sometimes see. Where a spheri- 
cal dome is to be built, it is possible to do the work with only 
the rudiment of a centre, just enough to get a few circles of 
tile started out from the edge. With this start, the skilled work- 
men will lay ring after ring around the dome until it is final- 
ly closed and keyed with a last piece or an appropriate centre- 
piece, from which a great chandelier may be hung. Such work 
must be done with great care and with due regard for the 
form. This is accomplished by having ribs or templates cut in 


the form of a segment of the dome, every course of tile accu- 


rately tested by this template. 

While Guastavino arches may be used most frequently in 
decoration, primarily they are structural, and the ingenuity of 
their construction, so different from all other forms of arch, 


A gyratory crusher used to break up the limestone or cement rock used in making Portland cement. Lumps of 
rock three feet in diameter are handled by this machine. 


A rotary cement kiln, the largest type of revolving machinery known to industry. Powdered coal is blown 

into the kiln, igniting a 40-foot flame and making a temperature of 2700 degrees Fahrenheit. Using col- 

ored glasses, the man at the front watches the process of calcining of the raw materials and regulates the 
temperature. 


Courtesy of Portland Cement Association. 


Q4.4 SKYSCRAPERS 


gives them a unique place in the science of modern building. 
It was the development of the ceramic art and of Portland ce- 
ment that made this ingenious construction possible. Guas-- 
tavino arches have been used extensively in our finest public 
buildings and in the newer railway terminals. The North West- 
ern in Chicago and the Grand Central in New York are deco- 
rated with beautiful examples of this work. 

The invention of reinforced concrete ushered in the cor 
crete arch which, in some localities, has almost replaced the 
hollow tile arch. It is nothing more than a flat slab of concrete 
—a stone cast in place—with reinforcing rods or mesh im- 
bedded in it. The concrete is made to cover the sides and sof- 
fits of the beams that support it for fire protection, but the 
strength is obtained by the combination of the high tensile 
strength of the reinforcing and the compression strength of 
the concrete. Cinder concrete is largely used in cities where 
quantities of cinders are available, both because of its lightness 
and its relatively lower cost as compared with crushed stone, 
slag or any other filling material. Stone concrete is heavier and 
the stone ingredient costs more, but the weight is the main 
deterrent from its use as it runs up the tonnage of structural 
steel by reason of increasing the dead load. In some sections of 
the country, blast furnace slag is available and relatively in- 
. expensive. It is of light weight and altogether an almost ideal 
material. 

This question of the weight of the floor arch is ever on the 
mind of the structural engineer, and inventors continue to at- 
tempt all sorts of ingenuities to make the floor construction 
lighter and thus reduce the amount of steel to be used. One 
system goes so far as to use plaster of paris and shavings for a 
filler and compression member, the reinforcing, however, be- 
ing somewhat increased. But whatever the method, the ob- 
ject is always the same: to get a strong, light floor construc- 
tion. 


ee Le | 


INTERIOR STRUCTURE Q45 


Sound-proofing must have consideration but is secondary 
in the ordinary commercial work, and indeed, the question is 
a difficult one. People with sensitive ears may demand elab- 
orate precautions and still not be satisfied; others will not 
notice sounds from adjoining quarters. Deadening materials 
of various sorts have been used in floor filling and in hung 
ceilings, and yet the matter of the amount of sound trans- 
mitted and its relative annoyance remain in the realm of per- 
sonal opinion. Suffice it to say that almost any of the standard 
floor arch constructions transmit to a certain extent the sounds 
from above, and when these cannot be tolerated there is no ef- 
fective half-way stopping place between taking matters as they 
stand and elaborate constructions designed effectively to stop 
sound transmission. 

Portland cement, that essential item in skyscraper construc- 
tion, takes its place with structural steel in the stimulus fur- 
nished to intensive, metropolitan, building development. We 
have seen how indispensable it is in foundation construction 
and how valuable its service in almost every phase of building 
work. The material was invented in England by an English 
mason, Joseph Aspdin, in 1824. He called it Portland because 
concrete made with it resembled a building stone extensively 
used in England which is obtained from quarries on the Isle 
of Portland, off the English coast. Many of the great struc- 
tures of England are built of this stone, among them West- 
minster Abbey. Aspdin could have had no realization of the 
extent to which his discovery would be carried, any more 
than Bessemer could have visualized the skyscraper when he 
first invented his process for refining steel out of pig iron. But 
the development has come nevertheless, and to-day Portland 
cement is an indispensable factor, not only of construction, 
but of modern life itself. No less than one hundred and seventy 
million barrels are manufactured annually in this country in 
one hundred and fifty plants located in thirty different states. 


246 SKYSCRAPERS 


The process starts with a cementaceous limestone quarry 
where rock of the proper quality is mined or quarried and sent 
to the crusher. It is a prodigious operation, for the rock comes 
there in great chunks larger than a man’s body, and is fed 
into the maw of a huge rotary crusher that grinds on inces- 
santly and insatiably. Every few seconds a huge chunk of rock 
comes to grips with the inexorably crunching maw. The out- 
come is always the same; the rock is caught, broken, and 
drawn down into the crater, the huge machine trundling on 
unperturbed. The crushed and defeated rock, now in lumps 
the size of a man’s two fists, pours out of the crusher onto a 
belt of buckets that raise it and dump it into another crusher. 
This time it is reduced to the size of the two-inch crushed 
stone of commerce, and at this stage, it would make an ex- 
cellent aggregate for concrete, but the material is destined to 
play a far more important part in that indispensable product. 

Crushed to this smaller size, it is moved on by another con- 
tinuous bucket belt, now to find itself spilled into a belt con- 
veyor running over a huge bin house where it takes temporary 
repose, while chemists dip in and sample its composition, that 
the estimate of its purity and fitness, which they had made be- 
fore the quarry was put in operation, may be confirmed. The 
rock is of slightly variable composition as it comes to this 
great bin house, and the tests are frequent so that any defi- 
clencies or variation may be made up in the next step, for 
there the rock is to meet its first blending operation. 

Portland cement is not just rock treated in a certain way, 
but a scientific admixture of accurately proportioned ingredi- 
ents, of which limestone, while the principal one, must have 
with it a proportion of clay, either shale or blast furnace slag, 
lime, silica and alumina. So in this first great bin house, the 
chemists determine what proportions of these ingredients 
must be mixed to insure the even quality of the cement. 


From the bottom of these huge bins, which hold perhaps 


INTERIOR STRUCTURE QA7 


two hundred tons of crushed rock at all times, the sampled 
rock is dropped on a conveyor belt. On that same belt material 
is poured from other storage bins, shale or blast furnace slag 
and clay, all in correct proportions. The mixture, always mov- 
ing onward, is again bucketed up to another bin, from which 
it is chuted to a great horizontal revolving drum. This drum 
at once thoroughly mixes and further grinds the aggregate, 
this time by the use of tons of steel balls about the size of large 
marbles, and these do their work by tumbling on the mixing 
aggregate as the drum is revolved. The aggregate, now thor- 
oughly mixed, again travels by bucket to the raw-mix storage 
bin, for now in its powdered form it is ready for burning. 

On it goes through feed bins, which simply act as a reser- 
voir, into the mighty rotary kilns in which the burning takes 
place. These great rotating kilns, through which an automobile 
could drive with ease and which are as long as three Pullman 
cars placed end to end, are the largest pieces of rotating machin- 
ery known to industry. The mixed raw aggregate, as it pours 
into the rotating kiln, meets a hot column of air rushing over 
the tumbling mass, and as this giant tube is pitched slightly 
downward, the material tends to move onward toward the on- 
coming flame from the powdered coal, or sometimes crude oil, 
that is rushing on to meet it. At first only heated by the gases 
of combustion, the raw mixture soon encounters the terrific 
flame of the combusting fuel. Driven on, the action of fusion 
takes place, for the heat is now run up to about three thou- 
sand degrees Fahrenheit, and only the heavy fire clay lining 
saves the steel sheet of the kiln from melting. 

And now we have a new product—cement clinker, a glass- 
like material, thoroughly burned and chemically fused. It tum- 
bles out of the lower end of the rotating kiln red hot, about 
the size of large pop corn, into another great cylinder, the 
function of which is slowly to cool the clinker. This cylinder 


QA48 SKYSCRAPERS 


is likewise pitched, and the cooled material is gradually poured 
onto a belt, to be conveyed to a large clinker storage space. At 
this stage, the burned material is inert. Only after it is finely 
ground does the clinker become cement, but the process hur- 
ries it on to the last grinding, where again great drums or cyl- 
inders, with tons of balls in them, rotate the clinker in the 
final grinding. It is here that the material receives that amaz- 
ing fineness that makes our American cement the marvel of 


the world. Here, in the grinding, a small quantity of gypsum — 


is added, just the proper amount to insure the correct setting 
time of the finished product, for all along the line, chemists 
have been sampling, and observations so made fix the amount 
of gypsum to be added. Ground in this fashion, the cement be- 
comes finer than the finest flour. About eighty per cent of it 
will pass through a sieve with forty thousand holes to the 
square inch—water will not run through such a sieve. 

Packed in cloth bags weighing about ninety-four pounds 
each, four bags to the barrel, the cement is stored in large 
warehouses awaiting shipment. Here the last tests are made by 
the vigilant chemists. Samples are taken from identified lots 
of the cement for many kinds of tests, the most common ones 
being for tensile and crushing strength. At this point also, 
both government and private inspectors are to be found sam- 
pling and making up little briquettes from the samples. These 
are tested after one day, seven days and twenty-eight days. The 
last of these having been satisfactorily met, the material that 
has been in the warehouse is now of a known quality, and its 
behavior at the building site is largely the matter of careful 
mixing and using. The manufacturer has done his part, and 
the responsibility for inferior results, if they come, must be 
due to some cause beyond the control of the maker. 

All of the foregoing has been given in an endeavor to indi- 
cate to the reader the complexity of the process and the vigi- 
lance that attends cement making. The mixing and blending 


Courtesy of Farnam Cheshire Lime Co. 


A lime quarry. Lime will always have its important uses in building construction. Some extent of the demand 
is indicated by the enormous scale on which the material is still quarried. 


Courtesy of United States Gypsum Co. 
Obtaining gypsum rock that is calcined and ground into modern wall-plaster. 


250 SKYSCRAPERS 


is all a part of the technic of the cement maker’s art; different 
manufacturers have their own special details of process upon 
which they may lay claim to individual superiorities, but the 
main appeal of every manufacturer is uniformity and reliability 
of product, absolute vigilance over the material in process, and 
surety of delivery service, for a great construction operation 
once under way cannot be interrupted by uncertainty of its ce- 
ment supply or any threat of lack of uniformity of this essential 
of modern construction. 

Cement makers tell us that the calcination of the rock, 
meaning the burning process, eliminates from the structure of 
the natural material the water of crystallization, which is an- 
other way of saying that the heat de-crystallizes the limestone. 
But the heat also compels a recombining of a number of sepa- 
rated elements contributed by the marl, slag, alumina and 
other ingredients in the terrific holocaust that is created in the 
great revolving kiln. In fact, a wholly new material is created, 
and when ground to irreducible fineness, after the burning, it 
is the Portland cement we know. 

When cement is used in concrete or in mortar, or in fact 
wherever it is mixed with a proper proportion of water, the 
crystallizing tendency of the material, inert when dry, im- 
mediately commences to assert itself. The water temporarily 
dissolves the finely ground particles, and the molecular action 
of crystallization at once sets in. The crystals will attach them- 
selves to each other and, even in the presence of the water 
which at first caused the dissolution, the crystals commence to 
take form and harden. Sand is mixed with the cement, first 
because it is an inexpensive as well as an excellent filler, and 
further because the hard facets and sharp angles of the par- 
ticles of sand form ideal surfaces to which the crystals of ce- 
ment will attach themselves. In like manner, crushed stone is 
used in concrete to save both cement and sand, at the same 
time furnishing a filler that is harder than the cement itself 


mg ae 


INTERIOR STRUCTURE 951 


or the cement and sand combined. Half or three-quarter inch 
stone is used in concrete that is to be laid in thin layers of com- 
plicated forms, or where much reinforcing is to be used to in- 
sure the aggregate getting into all interstices and completely 
surrounding the reinforcing. In heavy foundations or where 
concrete is massed, two inch and even larger stone is used. In 
very heavy foundations such as bridge piers or dams, great 
pieces of rock, even up to derrick sizes, are sometimes used. 
When this is done, a heavy bed of two-inch stone concrete, 
perhaps three feet thick, is first deposited, then the large 
stones, first thoroughly washed and with clean split faces, are 
dropped into the plastic mass, great care being taken that they 
are fully bedded and in the centre of the mass. Again the suc- 
ceeding layer of concrete fully covering any projecting points 
of the large stones is deposited, and again the large stones. 
Such concrete is sometimes called “Cyclopean concrete.”’ 

The microscopic crystallization process of the cement is not 
unlike the crystallization of sugar. Whoever has seen a bucket 
of rock candy in the old-fashioned drug store window has seen 
something like the sight that greets the eye of the observer as 
he gazes through a microscope at a cement crystalline forma- 
tion. 

We hear of brick mortar being specified one to two or one to 
three “tempered with slacked or hydrated lime,” which, of 
course, means one part of cement to, say, three parts of sand. 
The “‘tempering”’ is the admixture of a material that makes it 
work “‘smooth”’ under the mason’s trowel, but when properly 
used, it has the effect of adding a degree of moisture proofing 
to the hardened mortar, for as the cement sets in the presence 
of the lime in suspension, the lime has a tendency to fill the 
interstices between the crystals, and moreover, is itself a binder 
between them. Little can be claimed for any added strength. 
In fact, tests show that lime measurably weakens the cement, 
but the material is excessively strong and can afford the slight 


252 SKYSCRAPERS 


reduction in strength that the use of lime entails because of the 
great advantage that arises from the smoother working of the 
mortar. In both mortar and concrete there is a proper propor- 
tion of cement and the other ingredients, yet there is a deep- 
rooted feeling in the minds of some architects and engineers 
that the “‘richer” the mixture the stronger it is. Such is not the 
case. The cement is the least resistant of the ingredients of con- 
crete, and under fracture tests, it is the cement that first gives 
way. Neat cement will not resist the same crushing that either 
sand and cement or sand-stone and cement will. People gaze 
with smiling admiration at the efforts of workmen to break 
apart some old concrete structure. It is, of course, a tough job, 
but in reality it is the ever-irteresting phenomenon of cement 
that attracts them. Concrete will yield to the drill and sledge 
hammer much more readily than will the original rock from 
which the crushed stone came. 

Concrete, while almost ideal for many forms of construc- 
tion and particularly for foundations, must not be considered 
the everlasting and infallible material for all possible uses. One 
has but to observe the concrete retaining walls along railways 
and he will occasionally see concrete, new and old, rapidly 
deteriorating. It is common to see the outside facing scale 
off, and sometimes the body of the wall itself is seen to be al- 
most chalky in places. This is not because the concrete was 
poorly made originally, but because the chemicals, particularly 
the salts and alkalines of the ground, carried in by capillarity 
or by seepage, actually break down or sometimes dissolve the 
crystalline structure of the hardened cement. It is an insidious 
and bafHing thing, and as yet full means of combating it have 
not been developed. The railroads, on their more recent work, 
have resorted to water-proofing with greatest care the backs of 
all their retaining walls, thus forestalling the possibility of 
moisture entering the concrete at all. This, however, does not 
seem to be the full solution, for the joints between the sections 


i aia, 


INTERIOR STRUCTURE 953 


of the work and even the lines between batches, particularly 
if a few hours have here elapsed, seem to contain the initial ele- 
ments of a disintegration that is very hard to combat. 

Concrete underground, where saturation takes place and 
then comes to rest, does not show any of these signs of dis- 
integration. Neither does concrete under roof or not exposed 
to continuous or intermittent moisture show this weakness. It 
will be seen from the foregoing that concrete is not just a mix- 
ture which, once made, will be everlasting regardless of its use 
or abuse, and its environment. It is a subject of deep study by 
specialists, and care and understanding must attend its use. 
The American Concrete Institute, collaborating with the Port- 
land Cement -Association, carry on an intensive study of the 
problems involved. They have accomplished much and have 
yet much to accomplish. 

Of recent years we have been afforded a quick setting ce- 
ment which has many special uses. On rush jobs the forms of 
the concrete arches can be struck within twenty-four to thirty- 
six hours after the concrete is placed. Ordinarily the forms 
would have to remain in place about seven days. But building 
construction is not the only beneficiary. Road builders in busy 
city streets can lay a road-bed to-day and use it to-morrow. One 
could think of a dozen uses to which this quick-setting material 
could be put. During the World War the material, then new, 
was used to good effect in making hastily constructed gun em- 
placements, redouts, and machine-gun “pill boxes.”’ 


CHAPTER AIS 
WE COMMENCE TO FINISH 


Ir is not necessary to recount all of the operations of comple- 
tion in a building to give a picture of the general swift progress 
of the work, once the building is enclosed. We have seen that 
the pre-arranged plan of action requires that immediately on 
the heels of one trade another follows, and that the builder, 
through his organized forethought, has arranged or sub-con- 
tracted for everything that goes to make up the completed 
structure. The watchword is to keep driving, everlastingly 
driving, all with due regard to the quality of the work and the 
sequence—inspecting, planning, conferring, working out de- 
tails of method, adjusting minor inconsistencies. For the plans, 
however perfect, cannot possibly depict every contingency, 
and the broad generalizations of the specifications properly re- 
quire co-operation and co-ordination; these are the functions 
of the building superintendent, always alert and always look- 
ing ahead. 

Interior partitions are of masonry and laid by bricklayers. 
The superintendent is apt to have directed that the best men 
from the outside walls be kept and thrown in on partition 
work. Frequently inclement weather forces a slowing down of 
the exterior walls, and the competent superintendent has seen 
to it that some of the floors are stocked with partition tile 
against this rainy day. The builder knows this also, and has 
been pushing the architect for any special layouts to be built 
in floors where the exterior walls are finished. But further de- 
scription here becomes too complex. The interior requires that 
interlocking action of steam-fitters, plumbers, electricians, 

254 


WE COMMENCE TO FINISH Q55 


sheet metal workers, elevator constructors and ornamental iron 
workers, to say nothing of as many more essential trades, with 
the progress demanding that no nook or corner of the job be 
idle while work is there to be done. 

In the earlier days of skyscraper construction, partitions 
were almost universally of hollow tile, sometimes three inches, 
sometimes four inches thick. Six and even eight-inch partition 
blocks are made, but these are for special uses, such as the legal 
requirement in some cities of thicker partitions around ele- 
vator shafts and stairways. Ceiling heights of fifteen feet and 
over require at least six-inch partitions if good practice is to be 
followed, although columns of almost any height may be cov- 
ered with either three or four-inch tile, unless they are con- 
creted in and no tile is necessary. 

Of late years, gypsum blocks have successfully competed 
with hollow tile, and in some cities are so considerably cheap- 
er as to dominate the market. When well made, these blocks 
are very satisfactory. They are lighter than tile, come in larger 
sizes, can be cut with a saw, are straight and uniform in size 
and thickness; nails, easily driven into them, take hold with a 
tenacity almost equalling that of nails driven into wood. In 
spite of these many advantages, architects of quality structures 
are apt to stick to tile specifications for interior partitions. 
They are somehow regarded as more substantial, have some 
advantage perhaps in the better adhesion of the plaster, and 
never shrink, thus avoiding the unsightly crack along the ceil- 
ing that sometimes is seen when inferior or “green’ gypsum 
blocks are used. 

Metal lath partitions also are used and, in some cases, are 
indispensable where a very thin partition is required. 

In partition work, the architect allows for a very exact fin- 
ished thickness, and any deviation will cause trouble at door 
jambs and around windows, whether the trim be of wood or 
metal. In either case, the trim is prepared in advance from full 


256 SKYSCRAPERS 


size details that guarantee to the trim manufacturer that an 
exact partition thickness, plaster to plaster, will be found when 
the trim reaches the job ready for erection. 

Whether the partition blocks be of tile or gypsum, the next 
operation is putting on grounds to furnish a guide and set the 
plane of the plaster. Carpenters do this work, for the grounds 
are generally of pine or spruce about. a half inch thick and a 
couple of inches wide, one generally found at a line about six 
inches or so above the floor, as the grounds also serve as nail- 
ing strips for the finished base that is to follow. Another 
ground is put on at the line of the picture mould, again serv- 
ing the dual purpose of establishing the plane of the plaster. 
and furnishing nailing for the picture mould. The full sized 
details have furnished the information as to just how and 
where these grounds are to be placed; the woodwork manu- 
facturer finds them just where the drawing showed them, when 
he arrives with his material some time after the plastering is 
finished. 

If steel trim is to be used—and we are using steel trim and 
doors more and more—the whole doorway is set before the 
partition work starts, and is solidly built in by the masons, for 
the steel needs no unusual protection and it does no damage 
to have the mortar of both tile-laying and plastering smeared 
all over the steel. All that is necessary is to have it cleaned with 
a wire brush after the mortar work has passed, preparatory to 
final painting. 

Recently, metal grounds have found considerable favor, es- 
pecially where metal trim is afterward to be installed. It is an 
ingenious construction and has its advantages, but presents a 
problem of fastening the succeeding trim. The problem of base ~ 
has best been met by installation of cement or other form of 
plastic base material, in which case the metal ground is ideal 
and the wood ground guide objectionable. 

The completion of the plastering is the goal of the builder 


WE COMMENCE TO FINISH Q57 


in his consideration of finishing the interior, just as the com- 
pletion of the steel was his goal in the exterior, as we have 
seen. It is messy business and everything stands aside when the 
plasterer, organized for swift progress, sweeps through the 
building. Floor after floor is given over to him as he pro- 
gresses, generally from the top downward, taking his clutter 
of scaffolding and the mess of his waste with him. Floor after 
floor must have been made ready; everything—pipes in, 
grounds completed, corner beads set, electric light outlets ac- 
curately placed and exactly at the plane of the plaster as estab- 
lished by the accurately set grounds; every one endeavors to 
finish his roughing work and flee the clutter and mess that 
this oncoming crew inevitably brings with it. 

Consideration of partition work and the succeeding plaster- 
ing thereof holds a very important place in the calculations of 
the builder. The anxieties are not the same that attended the 
foundation work, for there safety and the everlasting standing 
qualities of the structure were involved. Now the builder is 
concerned in excellence of finish, for, as we have seen, he may 
have done the foundations and structure well, but if the in- 
terior does not answer to the critical requirements of neat and 
careful workmanship and excellence of finish, the whole 
operation is apt to be adjudged inferior. So straight true plas- 
ter work must be done, and this depends in a large part on 
grounds and corner beads, but not altogether, for the material 
of plastering must answer to the requirements of speedy ap- 
plication, quick setting and drying, and the reasonably rapid 
succession of the coats of plaster. 

Plastering, from time immemorial, has been done with lime 
mortar. All recorded history of building shows that early in 
the dawn of civilization, lime plasters and mortars were used. 
Even in the early days of the skyscraper, one of the problems 
to be met was the setting apart of a large area in the basement 
where, soon after the steel was set, quantities of lump lime 


258 SKYSCRAPERS 


would be brought to the building to be slaked. We all remem- 
ber the familiar sight of the mortar box with its lumps of slak- 
ing lime, and the consequent heat that seemed to cause the 
water to boil and bubble as the calcium oxide, released by the 
chemical action of the water on the lime lump, gave off its 
gases and, in fact, generated great heat in the process. The 
lime putty so formed, but now inert, was “fat” or lean, accord- 
ing to its origin, and the content of impurities. There were high 
calcium limes and dolomitic limes and marble limes, which 
were nothing but variations on the two basic branches of the 
lime family first named, but every plastering foreman had his 
prejudices and his theories. Fat, smooth-working, thoroughly 
slaked and inert mortar was his one ae and how to get it 
was the debated question. 

The space that the older method required, together with the 
uncertainties and carelessness of job labor and the demand for 
a surer and more quickly usable material, resulted in the in- 
troduction and perfection of gypsum plaster, and to-day that 
material is used almost exclusively in the brown coat, with 
lime putty still the ideal material for the finish. 

Gypsum plaster is made somewhat in the manner of Port- 
land cement, but the process is vastly simpler. Gypsum rock is 
mined, and after being crushed to convenient size, is dried 
and calcined by what amounts to a simple operation; that is, 
the crushed material is fed into one end of a kiln and, by 
means of rotation or of rotating paddles, is advanced toward 
the source of heat, generally coke, gas or crude oil. As soon as 
it enters the heat, calcination—which, as we have seen in the 
case of Portland cement, is simply breaking down the crystal- 
line structure of the rock—commences. As it reaches the great- 
est heat, the calcination is completed and the hot chalk-like 
substance so formed falls into cooling bins, and is belted on 
from there to grinding machines, either of steel balls, as in 
the case of Portland cement, or by other process, that reduces 


WE COMMENCE TO FINISH 959 


it to a suitable fineness. This material is reasonably soluble, 
and while in the presence of water it tends to reform, its hard- 
ening, unlike cement, is accomplished largely by its drying. 
Gypsum plaster will dissolve under the continued action of 
water, and in this respect has nothing in common with true 
Portland cement. 

The development of gypsum plaster was a boon to the sky- 
scraper builder, and immediately after its introduction, it took 
its important place in the industry. Gypsum plaster is deliv- 
ered either “neat” or mixed with sand. The latter is frequent- 
ly specified because of the accuracy of the sand mix that the 
mills provide by automatic machinery. Neat plaster delivered 
to the job has the merit of cheapness, for the plasterer can buy 
sand about as cheaply as the gypsum manufacturer can, and 
by getting it direct, he saves haulage and handling, for which 
the gypsum manufacturer must charge in the price for the 
mixed product. 

And now the gypsum plaster is delivered, and for a week or 
more the job is all agog with the receiving and hoisting of the 
bagged material—so many tons to each floor, for it will be 
seen that here is storage space of a sort. Temporary water lines 
that were run up through the building as the outside walls 
were built now serve the plasterer. Mortar boxes are distrib- 
uted about at convenient points on each floor, and with all 
this preparation in good order, on the appointed day the plas- 
terers commence to arrive. Their swift course through the 
upper reaches might ineptly be compared to the sweep of a 
swarm of devouring locusts; but they do not devour, they con- 
struct. In a few days, the whole appearance of the floors com- 
mences to change. First ceilings and side walls down to scaf- 
fold-high are done. Then the well-trained crew of scaffold 
builders, plasterers’ laborers, appear and whisk away the scaf- 
folds, while the plasterers themselves have moved on to an- 
other floor. The scaffolds out, back come the plasterers, seem- 


260 SKYSCRAPERS 


ingly in perfect team work, and finish browning the walls 
from scaffold-high to the floor. 

A period of quiescence sets in. Plumbers, electricians, fitters 
and marble setters commence to appear, prodding about in the 
wake of this crew that has passed through the building, to take 
up the tasks left undone until the plasterers had finished their 
browning. Plasterers’ laborers follow on the floors after the 
plasterers have left and commence cleaning up, and it is in- 
deed a prodigious amount of cleaning they do. Tons on tons of 
now dead and inert material, the droppings from the main 
operation, are shovelled up and dumped into the chutes pro- 
vided to keep the operation free of rubbish at all times. The 
waste seems enormous, yet it is unavoidable. Rule of thumb 
builders used to say that they could figure the tons of plaster 
required for a job by adding one third to the tons of steel it 
contained. Thus, a job that had three thousand tons of steel 
would require four thousand tons of plaster. This method of 
calculating is not recommended, but it gives occasion to quote 
the second rule of thumb, whieh says that a third of the ton- 
nage of plaster that comes in, goes out again as rubbish. 

Where metal lath is used—and much of it is used where 
hung ceilings and a considerable amount of ornamental plas- 
tering are called for—it is necessary first to plaster the metal 
lath with a “scratch coat.” This is the same material of gyp- 
sum and sand, but with the added ingredient of cow’s or goat’s 
hair. The use of hair in plaster is as old as the use of wood lath, 
and its object is very obvious. On metal lath, it is necessary to 
get a body established that is comparable to the masonry par- 
titions or ceilings on which the brown coat is applied. This 
scratch coat is done in advance of the brown and allowed to 
harden for a day or two before the browning starts. In apply- 
ing this coat on the lath, the workmen scratch and score the 
plastic surface as they are about completing it, to ‘provide a 
roughened surface, hence the name, “‘scratch coat.’ 


WE COMMENCE TO FINISH 261 


Slaking lime on the job, even for white coating, soon be- 

came a hindrance to rapid building. Again its uncertainty of 
composition introduced factors of possible delay, and out of 
the demand for a surer and speedier finish, hydrated lime was 
developed. Nowadays, hydrated lime is delivered to the job in 
sacks, hoisted to the floors, turned out into mortar boxes, and 
the water is applied simply to reduce the material to plastic 
form. Immediately, it is trowelled into the wall with no wait- 
ing for slaking, or the tedious hoisting of putty from a great 
bin in a most needed part of the basement. Hydrated lime is 
simply lump lime ground fine, with water in the exact amount 
to produce complete slaking introduced. The product is scien- 
tifically prepared, dried, powdered, packed in bags, and de- 
livered—another boon to the impatient builder. 
_ The plasterer now turns back over the job with his clutter 
of scaffolding to apply the finish coat, and this time the work 
moves more rapidly and the rubbish of waste, while annoying 
and, as before, requiring another clean-up, is less in volume, 
as the droppings from the white coating of the walls and ceil- 
ings are of relatively small amount. Again the scaffolding is re- 
moved, this time lowered to be taken away from the job al- 
together; a last brief turn of the plasterers as they finish the 
walls from scaffold-high to base ground, and they are gone 
forever, until a few of them shall be called back to do the 
patching after all other trades that precede the finalists—the 
painters and decorators putting the finishing touches on the 
building. | 

Now the job takes on a very different air. Rooms have as- 
sumed their finished appearance and the most unappreciative 
tyro can tell what it is all to look like. Pleased owners may 
now walk about the job without hazard to their persons or 
clothing, and view the almost completed work without the 
risk that attended earlier visits. 

It is at this point that the plumbers’ and fitters’ helpers 


262 SKYSCRAPERS 


cause greatest wonder as to their reason for existence, for, as 
one walks from room to room, he is apt to come upon them 
singly and in groups, smoking cigarettes or uselessly feigning 
some impromptu errand. Job discipline is most difficult from 
now on because of the endless number of rooms and the difh- 
culty of observation. At this juncture in the building arises the 
old adage that all of the losses in building come in laying the 
thresholds. 

Operations from now on are final operations—finishing of 
every sort. True, the tile setter and, to a less extent, the mar- 
ble setter cause a certain amount of rubbish and waste, but 
their work is generally confined to toilet rooms and corridors, 
and, of this latter, an ever-decreasing amount. Marble wain- 
scotings in corridors are not installed as extensively as they 
used to be. Substitute materials for tile and marble floors are 
nding increased favor, high labor costs being responsible in 
a large measure. 

It has been inferred that the plasterer browns and white- 
plasters the walls everywhere, but, of course, not where tile is 
to be laid or marble set. Behind tile the walls are scratch- 
coated with a Portland cement plaster; behind marble the par- 
tition blocks are often left bare, although some architects re- 
quire a thin rough plaster coat to cover them before the mar- 
ble is set. Wood grounds that have been set to establish the 
plaster line are removed where marble and tile are to join the 
plaster. 7 

But the interest now is in plaster, and with the upper floors 
completed, we may take time to observe the ornamental plas- 
tering which generally occurs in the main rooms of the ground 
floor and in the main entrance corridor. Some of the greatest 
triumphs of American architecture may be found in the nota- 
ble banking rooms of the large cities of this country, while in 
the ballrooms and assembly halls of the great hotels, in theatres 


WE COMMENCE TO FINISH _ 263 


and public buildings may be found the crown jewels of the 
magnificent structures they adorn. 

It is an interesting observation that rooms get their feeling 
of spaciousness from their ceilings, the side wall space being 
of secondary importance in creating this effect, even though 
the room be of lofty ceiling height. For this reason we Ameri- 
cans have come to admire great areas unbroken by any col- 
umns whatsoever, even though the arrangement of facilities 
such as bank screens, or furnishings such as are found in spa- 
cious hotel lobbies, crowd us into rather limited areas of floor 
space. Large sums of money are sometimes spent to obtain 
these great columnless rooms, and it is upon the design of 
their ceilings that the architects lavish time and money in the 
attainment of the pleasing effects we see. 

Such a large room is a forbidding, masonry bordered area 
in the building under construction, stacked with material, and 
cluttered with sub-contractors’ lockers. It is probable that a tem- 
porary hoist or two to serve the upper part of the building pene- 
trates the ceiling area, and perhaps a roadway used by the 
trucks delivering material to the building crosses the floor. As 
soon as the pipes serving the superstructure have been tested 
in this area, the builder commences preparation for the orna- 
mental plaster that will embellish the room. If there are deep 
girders incident to the wide spans to be covered, either the de- 
sign will take them into account, or a hung ceiling obliterat- 
ing them wholly or in part will be called for. Such large rooms 
are generally ventilated, and the ventilation ducts are installed 
before the ceiling is started. But, whether flat ceiling or pan- 
elled, the wire lather is soon at work hanging the ribs of the 
ceiling and forming the beams or heavily projecting orna- 
mental features. This work may be done from trestle scaftold- 
ing built up from the floor, or, if it is desired to carry on the 
work on the finished floor at the same time, the scaffolding 1s 


264 SKYSCRAPERS 


hung from the floor above from hangers running through that 
floor, which remain in place until the plastering is completed. 
At this time, the hoists running through the room are boxed 
off or otherwise protected. The metal lathing giving form to 
the ceiling is scratch coated. 

In the meantime, the architect has been inspecting models 
of the ornament. They are full size and are made in clay for | 
his inspection, just as the models for the terra-cotta are made. 

Modelling has become almost indispensable to modern 
architectural design, particularly that part which includes or- 
namentation. The large terra-cotta manufacturers have skilled 
modellers who accurately interpret the drawings of the archi- 
tects; also the plaster contractors, bronze works and orna- 
mental iron shops; in fact, all of those branches of building 
construction which minister to ornamentation have modellers 
on their staffs. Besides these, there are professional modellers 
selected by architects, who work independently of the manu- 
facturers of various materials, and these deliver their models 
in the clay after they have been approved by architects. 

For plaster work the modelling is always in clay, and when 
the model is finally finished, a preparation of gelatine or glue 
and plaster of paris is poured over the clay to make a mould, 
in the manner heretofore described in the making of terra- 
cotta. In ornamental plaster work there is apt to be a great 
deal of repetition, and much skill is involved in making mod- 
els and parts of models in such a way that from them can be 
made the intricate compositions of ornamentation that we see. 

We have seen how a formed ceiling is made of wire lath 
on metal ribs after the ventilation ducts and pipe work have 
been put in place. Now, this lath surface, having been scratch 
coated, is smooth plastered with cornice moulding “run” in 
place, and the plasterers are ready to apply the ornament. Cor- 
nices or cornice mouldings are run after the plane of the wall 
and ceiling has been established by grounds to form a guide for 


WE COMMENCE TO FINISH 265 


the cornice mould. This mould is cut from sheet iron of the 
exact profile of the cornice. The plasterers, usually working in 
pairs, walk along the scaffolding, one pushing the mould and 
the other feeding the plaster, which is highly tempered with 
plaster of paris. In this way, the heavy section of the cornice 1s 
built up, true and straight, with every line clean-cut. In this 
work the lime putty is said to be “gauged” with plaster of 
paris to establish the rapidity of setting of the plastic material. 
It is the principle of the carpenter’s moulding plane adapted to 
plastic material. At the corners and intersections the mould 
is laid aside and the intricate mitering is worked out with hand 
tools. The ornament is generally cast in plaster of paris and is 
“stuck” in place with the same material, true to line and 
straight, in fulfillment of the architect’s design. 

The laying out of one of these great ceilings is sometimes a 
most exacting and intricate bit of work. The rooms we see 
are not always exactly rectangular, as they may appear to be, 
and the minutest variations must be taken into account. The 
great ellipses and curves we look up to admire, and the inter- 
esting and intricate geometric patterns reflect the painstaking 
work of master craftsmen. Furthermore, the lines of the plas- 
ter ceiling must coincide exactly with the lines of the orna- 
mentation of the walls and sometimes of the floors. In such 
large rooms, floor, wall and ceiling must be considered as a 
unit, and the slightest deviation in form will throw the deli- 
cate mouldings out of line and cause distortion that the eye is 
quick to perceive. It is here that we require the most skilful 
workmen, and those who think of plaster merely in terms of ap- 
plying the plain surfaces of the straightaway room must real- 
ize that these same artisans, to be all-around craftsmen, must 
understand the application of ornamentation as well. Indeed 
the best of them must have a fair understanding of descriptive 
geometry in order to work out the problems involved in a 
great, complicated ceiling. 


266 SKYSCRAPERS 


We have said that these beautiful interiors are the crowning 
achievement of the skilled architect when he has an oppor- 
tunity to give sway to his talents. The architecture of an in- 
terior may in no way reflect that of the exterior. Different 
rooms in the same building may be of totally different archi- 
tectural styles, yet the skill and understanding must be there, 
and the better the architect, the better the interior is sure to be. 

In its lovely whiteness, before any decoration is applied, a 
plaster ceiling is one of the most charming and gratifying 
things to be seen around a building. It postulates everything 
that is beautiful, and seeing it fresh and clean, one almost re- 
grets that it is to be decorated; yet decoration of some sort is 
always necessary. The fact is that the plaster ceiling, white 
and beautiful as it is, is measurably porous and dirt that lodges 
upon it is not easy to remove. Therefore, it should be painted 
in some fashion, and the architect, realizing this, and also real- 
izing that, in its beautiful plainness, it does not fulfill his con- 
ception of the design, always has in mind that it will carry a 
certain scheme of decoration. The decorative scheme, however, 
need not necessarily be so minutely studied in advance, because 
again we have in the decorator of these ceilings an artist him- 
self. Some architects compose the artistic coloration of ceilings 
and walls and illustrate them by block drawings, but even 
these are only regarded as generalities. The decorator, like 
the modeller, is chosen for his artistic skill in interpreting the 
architect’s design, and is apt to be given wide latitude of inter- 
pretation. 

We see these beautiful ceilings sometimes appearing to be 
of heavy oaken beams, sometimes of marble, but more fre- 
quently seemingly of Caen stone or some other form of stone 
work; yet in nearly every case they are the same composition 
—plaster skilfully prepared by the decorator. Such imitation 
is entirely legitimate and indeed desirable. This is one of the 
few cases where imitation wood, for example, is better than 


WE COMMENCE TO FINISH 267 


the material itself would be. Likewise, beautiful forms in imi- 
tation of stone can be produced that are entirely legitimate, 
yet the nature of the skeleton structure itself is such that ac- 
tually to produce these same forms in stone would require a 
prohibitive complexity of stone-cutting and setting. 

It has been noted that plaster was one of the early essentials 
of building and has come down to us from all time. It is a 
perfect medium and seems completely to satisfy the xsthetic 
requirements of our highest civilization. In its application it 
still is a troublesome element of building, and in our endeavor 
to escape from it, many substitutions have been tried. Of late 
years we have seen more and more the efforts of wall-board 
manufacturers to produce a material which will give the de- 
sired effect of interior finish without involving the tedious proc- 
esses that plastering requires. The success of these is proble- 
matical, but the effort is a commendable one. It is not impos- 
sible that a new standard will be evolved, particularly for 
moderate priced habitations, but it is doubtful if anything will 
ever be found as completely satisfying as the hard, true plas- 
ter surface that has followed civilization down through the 
ages. 

The use of structural steel has introduced an innovation in 
the form of plain ceiling panels that architects have been quick 
to interpret in terms of architectural precedent. The beams of 
the ancient ceilings jutted down into the rooms and were 
structurally necessary and accepted for what they were. When 
lathing was introduced as a refinement of construction, it was 
done to carry the plaster surface on the soffit of the floor 
structure above, and architects were prone to cover these beams 
in the better structures, thus forming the traditional flat, 
smooth ceilings. When the timbers from above were too deep, 
they were allowed to obtrude and did no harm architecturally. 
Now, in modern construction, the steel girder has about the 
same effect. The construction of each floor is such, particularly 


268 SKYSCRAPERS 


where concrete arches are used, that concrete passes down 
around the beam or girder and back up to the slab, thus form- 
ing the ceiling into a series of panels or coffers which prevail 
throughout the whole structure. This construction is not so 
marked where hollow tile arches are used because they are 
generally ten or twelve inches deep, the same depth as the 
average run of beams of the floor construction, and therefore 
only the deeper girders protrude. A concrete arch, on the other 
hand, is only about four or five inches thick, and as this con- 
struction requires the same beam depth as a tile arch, the rea- 
son for the panels on the sofhits of concrete arches is apparent. 
Generally, where concrete arches are used, plaster is applied 
directly to the arch, and the occupant of the room or office 
in which this construction occurs can tell at a ee whether 
the arch is concrete or tile. 

This test is not infallible, however, because some buildings 
with concrete arches have suspended ceilings under the beams, 
thus forming a continuous, flat ceiling, excepting where very 
deep girders may project down into the room. Such extensive 
use of suspended ceilings is, of course, a refinement only justi- 
fied by special conditions of the building in which it may 
occur. 


CHAPTER XX 
THE DECORATIVE INTERIOR AND FINISH 


Ir artistic plaster ceilings and walls are the crowning glory of 
a richly decorated interior, the use of beautiful marbles puts the 
seal of enduring charm on the artistry of the design. The kinds 
and varieties of marble available are as many as the pigments 
on an artist’s palette, and where the use of color does not de- 
generate into extravagance, it is almost certain that a beautiful 
marble finish will do its part in enriching any decorative com- 
position. The fact is that marbles of themselves are exquisitely 
beautiful. Like exterior stone, they carry with them the mar- 
vels of natural formation, but their beauty does not end there. 
When highly polished, the depth and interest of the coloring, 
the very fact that nature herself made them, the interest that 
the geological structure evokes, and the amazement at the 
natural phenomenon itself all contribute to the intrinsic beauty 
of marble as it is used for decoration. It has a fitness, too, in 
that it proclaims its own wearing qualities and suggests the 
everlastingly substantial character of the structure. Used by 
the ancients in their classical buildings where the stones were 
hewn and brought from the quarries and fashioned with such 
miraculous beauty, marble has ever held its place; and in our 
modern skyscrapers, where limited space requires the utiliza- 
tion of every inch, it is natural that the older forms should 
still prevail, even though the ingenuity of modern marble saw- 
ing and cutting has to be brought to bear to enable the ma- 
terial to take its place in the scheme of decoration. 

The marble we see in wainscoting is generally about seven- 
eighths of an inch thick, securely anchored to the partition and 

269 


270 SKYSCRAPERS 


held in place by bronze anchors and dowels. Marble floor 
slabs are seldom less than an inch and a half thick. Plaster of 
paris is used extensively in wainscot setting, although marble 
floors must be laid in cement to withstand the shock of foot 
trafic over them. 

We have seen that many of the beautifully colored marbles 
may not be used for exteriors, but in the interior they hold 


their place, because they are not exposed to the rigors of cli- 


matic changes. This very protection fosters the use of marbles 
which of themselves are intrinsically shaky and unsound, but 
when carefully sawed, they are cemented to “linings” of some 
homogeneous and sound marble and their exposed surfaces 
are worked and polished to give the effects we see. 

The Roman builders knew the art of working unsound 
marbles and their methods were not unlike our own where in- 
teriors were concerned. They mounted marble slabs against 
their masonry interiors, and it is to be suspected that the sys- 
tem of inspection was not unlike our own. Our word “sin- 
cere’ comes from the Latin “sine cera,’ meaning without 
wax. The word, in fact, refers to the integrity of the old Roman 
builders, who would not resort to wax in touching up their 
beautiful marble creations in the hope of getting the work 
passed by the vigilant critics put over them to see that the mar- 
ble work was sound and free from cracks. 

Marbles used in the interiors of our finest skyscrapers may 
come from almost any part of the world. The quarries of 
Greece, Italy and France still furnish vast supplies of this beau- 
tiful material. The unlimited variety of color has been touched 
upon, and yet it may be of interest to note that in America we 
have some marbles of a beauty and quality found nowhere else 
in the world. For example, there is no marble that compares 
for certain purposes with the pink Tennessee marble so freely 
available to American builders. Many of our Vermont, Ten- 
nessee, Georgia and Alabama marbles are close-grained and 


ee 


THE DECORATIVE INTERIOR AND FINISH 271 


beautifully figured, and in fact, it may be said that, wherever: 
our mountain ranges have cast up marble deposits, there are 
sure to be formations of unsurpassed beauty that only await 
quarrying on a sufficient scale to insure their being used for 
interior marble work. Architects are ever on the alert for suit- 
able new varieties, and builders are as alert to be sure that the 
material offered is really available in the quantities and at the 
time that swift completion will require. 

It would be futile to attempt to describe even the commonest 
marble. It is hoped that the reader’s interest will be aroused so 
that he will inquire, where information is available, as to the 
kind and origin of the marble finish that he sees. 

The process of working interior marble is about the same as 
for exterior work, excepting, as has been observed, the interior 
marble is generally cut in thin slabs for all the plain surfaces 
and with due regard to economy of space in mouldings and 
bases. Like exterior marble, the work is done almost entirely 
by machinery, excepting where intricate carving is involved. 
Mouldings are run on planers, and the polishing of plain sur- 
faces and of running mouldings is almost wholly mechanical. 
Marble working is an art in itself, a skilled trade, and the ar- 
tisans that execute the intricate work are selected for their abil- 
ity and long training. 

Mosaic floors and marble mosaics are kindred heritages to 
decorative marble and perhaps have a more ancient origin. 
While there has been a diminution of the use of mosaic in late 
years, due to the high cost, nevertheless it is still the beautiful 
medium of the expression of sumptuousness in the design of 
fine interiors. 

Perhaps our best relics of decoration from the Roman Em- 
pire occur in the excavations of the buried cities. Pompeii in 
particular has yielded superb examples of this work. It is nat- 
ural that floors, wherever found, should be the best preserved, 
as the rubbish of destruction succeeding the downfall of the 


Q72 SKYSCRAPERS 


great civilization in which they were built fell on the floors 
and protected them from the damage of the elements and of 
vandalism. So it is that to-day our architects can reconstruct 
many of the great floor designs of the Roman Empire, where 
the art of mosaic work reached its greatest height. The Romans 
laid their floors in “‘puzalon”’ cement, a ground volcanic cinder 
that resembles our Portland cement in its igneous origin, but 
it never equalled our modern product, either in hardness or uni- 
formity. Sentimentalists like to point to this ancient product as 
evidence of Roman superiority in building. The material is 
still used in Italy by the peasants, but is no more to be compared 
with modern Portland cement than mud bricks are to be com- 
pared with our burned brick. 

In the memory of builders living to-day, mosaic floors were 
laid piece by piece, generally by Italian artisans who, with a 
fine appreciation of the design on which they were working, 
carried out the intention of the designers, and sometimes actu- 
ally improved upon it. We can remember these men working 
on their knees in great floor areas with bags of different colored 
little cubicles of stone at hand, laying the intricate patterns. 

Through the increased cost of labor this has largely been 
changed. Now the mosaic patterns are almost always mounted 
on paper in the shop before they are delivered to the building. 
The process can readily be imagined. The artisans work at 
benches with paste pot and stout manila paper. The design is 
indicated in reverse on the paper and the stones pasted on it face 
down. The pieces of paper are of uniform size, generally about 
eighteen inches by two feet; or they may be any other conve- 
nient size. As the sections are finished, they are carefully num- 
bered and packed in boxes to be sent to the job. Now the work- 
man simply lays the section of paper down on the prepared bed 
of cement mortar, being sure that it is level and in position, and 
with flat blocks of wood the stones are tapped down into place, 
the mortar squeezing up in the interstices between them. The 


THE DECORATIVE INTERIOR AND FINISH 273 


work having been brought approximately to an even bed, the 
water in the cement, together with water that is poured on the 
paper from above, soon dissolves the paste and the paper is 
removed, thus leaving the completed pattern in place. Any 
small irregularities of position or the adjustment of joints be- 
tween the sections are now made, and the work is left to harden 
through the action of the cement setting. 

After hardening, the surface is ground down, generally by 
grinding machines, although we still see the ponderous scrap- 
ing back and forth of a fragmented grindstone set in a hoe-like 
implement, which reminds us of the tedium of the labor that 
built those ancient floors in the Roman Empire. 

Wall mosaics are similarly produced on paper mountings, 
and even mosaic ceilings, now seldom seen, can be done by this 
offset method. However, with ceilings the problem is likely to 
be more difficult as, on the rare occasions when we see marble 
mosaic ceilings, they are apt to be vaulted or domed, in which 
case the old hand method of setting piece by piece is probably 
the most economical. 

Consideration of marble mosaic floors recalls the fact that 
one of the survivals that has carried through the changes of 
style and technique from those same early Roman times is the 
terrazzo floor. It seems never to lose favor and is properly one 
of the great, enduring floor surfaces. Unlike mosaic, particles of 
marble are “sown” into the bed of plastic cement mortar, much 
as a farmer sows grain; but the work, nevertheless, requires a 
skill and technic that still commands the interest of some of 
our best Italian artisans. There is, of course, endless variety of 
combinations of marble mosaic and terrazzo, or terrazzo it- 
self, done either in plain color or in patterns, although, when 
terrazzo patterns are used, they must be of simple forma- 
tion within the possibilities of the rather cruder technic of lay- 
ing. 


Terrazzo suffered a somewhat just criticism, after its wide 


QTA SKYSCRAPERS 


use through the period succeeding the early development of 
the skyscraper, from being used in too large areas. Any floor 
of Portland cement base laid in a large area is sure to show 
cracks. Our early architects forgot that while they were re- 
quiring the scoring of cement floors to provide inconspicu- 
ous lines of cleavage for the contingency of expansion and con- 
traction, in terrazzo they sometimes called for large and con- 
tinuous areas. About a year after completion, these terrazzo 
floors were sure to show jagged and irregular cracks, generally 
over girders, because the girder represented a line of weakness 
in the overlay which formed the bed of the floor; also because 
of the girders’ excessive rigidity in the very scheme of skeleton 
construction. Thus, under the strain of vibration which all 
skyscrapers undergo, terrazzo floors, or in fact, any Portland 
cement base floor, would yield at its weakened points; hence 
the jagged and irregular cracks. In terrazzo it is more notice- 
able because of the perfection of the surface its appearance de- 
mands. 

More recently this tendency to crack in large areas has been 
skilfully met by the introduction of brass stripping dividing 
the terrazzo up into sections of modest proportions. One con- 
cern that has specialized in laying terrazzo has devised the in- 
genious name of “Cloisonné’’ for the work of this kind that 
it does. The strips are just what they seem to be—thin sheets 
of brass set on edge deep into the bed of the terrazzo work, 
laid in advance of the sowing, and in fact, before the plastic 
mortar bed has been laid. These strips, set true and carefully 
anchored, form an ideal ground for levelling and truing the 
cement, and when the process of grinding sets in, the brass is 
ground off with the other material forming the floor and we 
get the pleasing effect of the thin metal lines defining the pat- 
tern of the floor. When shrinkage cracks occur, they follow 
the lines of the strips and are not noticed. 

The grains of terrazzo are of marble, generally white but 


Tee : " 
= F ss ae 
SE es 


THE DECORATIVE INTERIOR AND FINISH 275 


sometimes vari-colored, for practically all of the hard marbles 
are usable in the making of this excellent floor material. More- 
over, the making of terrazzo provides a valuable outlet for the 
waste of the marble yard. Hard, colored marbles are not so 
frequently worked, but for the same reason, they are not so 
frequently demanded in terrazzo designs. 

The design having been sown with brass strips now in 
place, the cement and marble-chip aggregate is allowed to 
harden, and this floor, like the marble mosaic floor, after a 
couple of days of setting, is ground down, either by machine 
or by tedious process of hand grinding. 

Scagliola is a decorative material which might be loosely 
described as between plaster and marble. It is a combination 
of Keene’s cement—a pure white and very hard product of 
calcined gypsum and alum—and mineral pigments. In mak- 
ing scagliola, finely powdered Keene’s cement, looking so 
much like plaster of paris that it cannot be distinguished, is 
mixed with water and spread on a sheet of oilcloth in a thin 
paste. The artisan, who is in fact an artist, has his pigments 
ready in pans, mixed in a thin batter of this same Keene’s ce- 
ment. He also has vari-colored skeins of silk threads, brushes 
and other implements of his work, and these he dips in his 
color mixture and skilfully draws the pigmented material 
through the thin, wet mixture on the oilcloth. The materials 
merge in the veining and design that his experienced hands 
direct, the thin pigments sinking through to the oilcloth, 
forming the figured surface that it is the intention to produce. 
For example, if he is imitating Sienna marble, the reds and 
orange colors will streak through the design, the silk threads 
being left in the composition to trace the lines of the veining. 
Or he may be imitating an Alps Green marble, or a Black and 
Gold, in which case the basic Keene’s cement will be pig- 
mented, the white and golden colors to be streaked through 
the darker material. The Keene’s cement now commences to 


276 SKYSCRAPERS 


set, and as it is left undisturbed on the oilcloth, it becomes 
tough and yet remains plastic. The artisan must move swiftly 
and decisively, for the setting acts rather quickly and all of the 
pigmentation of a single section must be done while the col- 
ored mixture is still liquid enough to sink through the basic 
mixture, at the same time not being so liquid as to run and 
blur the design. 

The coloration being now built up in a thin paste about an 
eighth of an inch thick on the oilcloth, the mass is of such a 
tough consistency that the oilcloth supporting it may be han- 
dled if care is used. It will be seen that the design has been 
constructed in reverse, the part next to the oilcloth being the 
surface we eventually see. 

Let us suppose that the material 1s interned for a great, 
free-standing column in a banking room. The column has 
been prepared in the rounded form with the usual fire-proof- 
ing, on top of which a coating of Keene’s cement plaster has 
brought it to the exact dimensions the design called for, less 
an allowance of about an eighth of an inch all around for the 
surfacing about to be applied. This column 1s perfectly shaped 
but roughened on the outside. Now the workmen, with every- 
thing in readiness, pick up the sheet of oilcloth with the tough, 
plastic material clinging to it, just as half a dozen men might 
carefully raise a wet blanket. The sheet may be as large as 
eight or nine feet square, and the men acting in unison raise it 
and wrap it around the prepared column. The dimensions 
have, of course, been accurately laid out, and the sheet there- 
fore exactly envelops the column with a lap of perhaps half 
an inch in the plastic material. Working swiftly, the men 
press the sheet into place with their hands, the reverse side of 
the oilcloth yielding ideally to the work, their trained hands 
knowing by touch just how to work the mass without deform- 
ing the now hardening, plastic material underneath the oil- 
cloth. This work done, the oilcloth is peeled off and the sca- 


THE DECORATIVE INTERIOR AND FINISH 277 


gliola surface is revealed, still somewhat soft and dull in ap- 
pearance, but indicating the success or failure of the artist to 
imitate the marble he has copied. If the column be large, the 
operation is repeated until the surface is completely covered. 
As each section is laid, the artisan must put on the finishing 
touch, for where the joints come, a little adjusting, patching 
and reconciling is always necessary. So while the material may 
yet be worked, he swiftly attends to this last detail and the col- 
umn 1s left to set. 

A few days later, the column surface, now set to flinty hard- 
ness, is attacked with pumice stone and water, the first step 
toward polishing. Smaller irregularities having been ground 
off, the beauty of the final design is revealed for the first time, 
and by another day’s work, the polishers have completed the 
task, which, if successfully done, appears and feels like a mag- 
nificent monolith of the imitated marble. 

Scagliola is generally so skilfully wrought that even an ex- 
pert has to look closely to discern it. Practical builders, of 
course, know that a solid marble column, such as it appears to 
be, could not possibly have been constructed in such a place, 
nor would such a column stand the excessive weight from the 
superimposed loading of the upper stories; only structural steel 
would stand such a strain. But the amateur may always dis- 
cern the work, however perfect the imitation, by examining 
the column all around. Somewhere, the patching of the joint 
will reveal itself, but to no discredit of the men who did the 
work. Joints are placed, if possible, on the less conspicuous 
side of the column; or if the column be so located as to be 
equally conspicuous from all points of view, there is no escape, 
for the joints will show. And the observer may still rejoice in 
the perfection of one of the most exquisite imitations done by 
man’s handiwork that the art of building affords. 

It will not be necessary to describe here the simpler opera- 
tions of scagliola for wall surfaces and for pilasters. The initial 


278 SKYSCRAPERS 


processes are the same, but the whole work can be done at the 
bench, the pieces being set in place and finished much as is 
done with natural marble. 

Marble, mosaic and terrazzo in one group and tile in an- 
other are generally put together by builders in considering their 
time schedules and plans of operation. They come at about 
the same time in the interior finish, and while the extent of 
either group prevents even generalization as to their place and 
importance, both are scheduled after plastering, and count as 
final operations. | 

Tile has a very respectable antiquity as a wall finish and for 


floors. The Italians of the Middle Ages brought it to high per- 


fection and, as we have seen, Della Robbia put the seal of the 
highest artistry on this ceramic medium in which he produced 
those marvellous masterpieces that have come down to us. The 
Spaniards and the Moors have contributed immensely to the 
art. “Spanish tile’? flashes to the mind’s eye, the gorgeous, 
flamboyant exteriors of the tropics; “Moorish tile,” the splen- 
dors of the mosques of Algiers and of the Alhambra. True, 
the terra-cotta manufacturers claim Della Robbia, but after all, 
interior decorative tile is only a refined form of the architec- 
tural terra-cotta we know. Like terra-cotta, ceramic tile has 
received a tremendous impetus from our development of the 
_ skyscraper. The building of sumptuous hotels and apartment 
houses has given momentum to the development, for only 
through the receiving of orders for large quantities could the 
manufacturers justify the research that has brought about the 
diversity and perfection in tile that we take as such a matter of 
course. | | 
Wall tile is somewhat different from floor tile in that the 
slip or finish is the goal, without regard to the hard wear that 
the floor tile must withstand. Also the slip or enamel gives 
opportunity for wide variation of color and texture and, of 
course, lends itself to ceramic design even to the point of fine 


Pe ee dt ee 


wey Teo Le 


—— i a eS a ee 


THE DECORATIVE INTERIOR AND FINISH 279 


china painting. Relief work and the polychroming thereof are 
only a phase of this beautiful art. 

The tile setter follows the plasterer in the building and is 
a law unto himself in the space in which he works. The walls 
are laid, true and straight, to the base course, which is first set 
for the entire room or surface under work; then, course by 
course, the wall is built up, much as a bricklayer lays a care- 
fully planned exterior, but here the accuracy must be almost 
absolute. The perfection of the material demands perfection 
of workmanship; the finished surface is a thing of beauty and 
the observer is properly critical. 

After the walls come the floors, laid on a bed of Portland 
cement; the borders, if there be any, first laid out and accu- 
rately fitted. Then the field, now almost universally mounted 
on manila paper, as has been described for mosaic, excepting 
that the pasting on is done by mechanical means, so com- 
pletely standardized has this aspect of the art become. Tiling 
must not always be thought of in terms of sanitary work, al- 
though a vast proportion of our national product is devoted to 
that department of building. More and more we are seeing 
handsome tile interiors, complete decorative effects, walls, 
floors and ceilings. The famous Della Robbia Room in the 
Vanderbilt Hotel in New York is an example, which, by the 
way, includes one of the most exquisite examples of Guasta- 
vino arch and vault work in existence. We have spoken of 
Guastavino tile in connection with floor construction. Beauti- 
ful tile is a worthy rival of marble as an enduring decorative 
material. It imitates nothing and is a decoration by itself 
through its own, sheer, intrinsic beauty. 


CHAPTER XXI 
MECHANICAL INSTALLATION 


Burtpers group plumbing, heating, ventilating, electrical 
work, elevators and even refrigeration, when it occurs, under 
the term “‘mechanical installation.” There may seem little 
that is mechanical about some of this work, yet the classifica- 
tion is particularly apt, for these branches must all be consid- 
ered together, and as a whole involve the use of a considerable 
amount of machinery. They interconnect in one way and an- 
other, and the whole mechanical installation in a skyscraper 
bears a remote analogy to the circulatory and nerve system of 
the human body. Without these facilities, the skyscraper is an 
inert corpse, useless and dead. It would be impossible in a 
popular outline such as this, to attempt any technical descrip- 
tion of even the most general phases of the mechanical work. 
Rather, it is the intention to point out the existence of the salient 
features that the reader may glimpse the complexities here in- 
volved. We have seen that engineers, collaborating with the 
architect, have designed the mechanical installation, just as 
structural engineers have designed the steel skeleton. A few 
architects essay to do all of this work under their direct, per- 
sonal supervision, but their efforts are likely to be analogous to 
those of a physician who would undertake to be a specialist in 
surgery, nervous diseases and perhaps a half dozen other ail- 
ments now generally conceded to be best performed by in- 
dividual specialists. 

The mechanical engineer makes mechanical drawings with 
the mechanical features, pipes, conduits, motorized equipment, 
etc., emphasized. These drawings differ both in appearance and 
purpose from the architectural drawings, although of course 

280 


MECHANICAL INSTALLATION 981 


both must agree in their ultimate intent. Before he can begin 
his work, the mechanical engineer must study the survey of 
the site which indicates the location, pitch and depth of the 
adjacent sewers, their capacities and the existing demands 
upon them. It sometimes happens in moderate-sized cities that 
sewer enlargements must be made, owing to the added de- 
mands for capacity that the proposed skyscraper will make. 
In like manner, the size, location and capacity of the water 
mains that are to serve the building must be examined, while 
at the same time, the available supply of electric current and 
its characteristics must be known and considered. 

The mechanical layout is generally the work of an organi- 
zation that includes specialists in these lines, and while they 
work as a team, the staff members take up their several special- 
ties and, co-ordinating them, design the complete, interlocked 
and inter-dependent mechanical system. For example, these en- 
gineers use certain formule, on which radiation and the supply- 
ing of steam thereto, with the incidental pipe sizes, are accu- 
rately worked out. The architect must be informed of the size 
and location of the radiators, and these may differ in different 
climatic zones of the country. When it comes to heating and 
ventilating entrance lobbies and large banking rooms, the prob- 
lem becomes exceedingly technical and complex. Heating and 
ventilation are here coupled, and of recent years, air condition- 
ing has come to the front as a new and now almost indispensable 
requirement in certain cases. Air conditioning means that not 
only must the air be heated, but it must be washed and de- 
humidified, and even chilled in summer. Patrons of moving- 
picture theatres rejoice in this recently developed luxury, and 
there are now few large cities that do not boast at least one 
splendid new auditorium where the air on a hot summer day 
is as cool and refreshing as at some seaside resort. 

The boiler room deserves early consideration, and the archi- 
tect must be informed by the engineers as to its depth and size, 


282 SKYSCRAPERS 


for the first operation of construction is affected thereby; the 
excavation must be made to accommodate the boilers. Here 
again the structural engineer is affected, for the deep boiler 
room means extending the columns down to lower founda- 
tions, and here the foundation design must take this depth 
into account. Or the plumbing layout must be based on the 
number of toilet rooms, wash basins and water-using facilities 
generally, and here the boiler requirements are again to be 
considered in estimating the total water demands of the build- 
ing. So the plumber must know what the steam-fitter is doing, 
for the pipe sizes are affected and must be large enough to 
handle these loads. 

If the boilers are used for heating purposes only, they are 
spoken of as “low pressure’ boilers; that is, they will carry 
only a few pounds of steam pressure and are not intended to 
develop the power necessary to drive any pumps or machinery. 
The boiler feed pumps, the house pumps and the fire pumps 
in this case are electrically driven, and the electrical engineer 
must know what the pumping demands may be; also he must 
know the ventilating and air conditioning problem, to provide 
the electric feeders and specify the power loads so that the 
electric motors for all this apparatus may be of proper size. 

So it goes, endless interdependence between the mechanical 
branches, a hopeless complexity to the layman, but relatively 
simple to the experienced engineer if he but use his head and 
keep himself posted as to the ever advancing improvement in 
the art of modern building. The spectator from the curbstone 


sees the steel erection carried swiftly skyward, and if he but 


look a second time, he will see that right behind the steel, al- 
most simultaneously with it, the pipes are carried up hugging 
the columns and securely anchored at certain floors on the 
beams or girders. It may not be as apparent to him that these 
pipes often hug into the depths of the column section, and it 
may be of interest to know that the position of these pipes has 


oe? 


a oe 


MECHANICAL INSTALLATION 283 


been laid out by the engineer for the architect’s guidance and 
in collaboration with him quite as accurately as the structural 
steel itself. Plumber and steam-ftter are here right on the 
job with their mains, with all the fittings accurately installed 
to take care of the branches that will follow. Also, the elec- 
trician is here, and if the floor arches are of concrete, his men 
are swarming over the forms to install their accurately-placed 
outlets and conduits before the reinforced concrete is placed. 
Somewhere back in the building the pipe shafts and conduit 
shafts are tucked away, and in these locations the workmen 
installing the mechanical work are busily putting in their 
main. feeders and risers, for it is easier to work in a shaft lo- 
cation before the partitions are built than in a shaft after they 
are built. 

The steel has not risen a dozen floors when the elevator 
constructors arrive with their elevator guides. These men are 
concerned in the plumbness of the elevator shafts, and watch 
the plumbing of the structural steel as it goes up above them 
in the expectation that their work, started perhaps before the 
steel is half finished, will continue to give them an unob- 
structed, absolutely plumb, vertical rise from where they are 
working to the very top. 

Sheet metal workers are watching for their chance, which, 
as has been seen, comes soon after the derricks have left the 
ground floor. At this point, the stair-builders appear with 
their iron stairs, for they too can work better on the steel be- 
fore the masonry walls and partitions are started; also it is 
important to the builder to have these stairs set, and he quickly 
provides wooden treads so that the job may have established 
highways of foot travel up and down. 

The builder has determined from the plans the location of 
his material hoists and these are placed so as to cause the least 
possible interference with the work in general; but more par- 
ticularly, these hoists must not too greatly interfere with the 


284 SKYSCRAPERS 


mechanical installations. Hoists rise unceremoniously right 
through the middle of rooms, the floor arches frankly omitted 
where continuity would seem to demand them most. Hoists 
are seldom found in hallways, corridors or stair wells, for the 
reason that in those positions, they would interfere with es- 
sential structural operations. For like reason, the elevator 
shafts are left strictly alone to give unobstructed progress to 
the elevator constructors at their important work. Permanent 
elevators are one of the major goals in the builder’s pro- 
gramme, for until these are ready, the temporary hoists must 
remain. It sometimes happens that it is desirable to erect a 
temporary hoistway completely outside the building to accom- 
modate a swift construction programme, but it is apt to be a 
costly procedure and is resorted to by the builder only in ex- 
tremities. 

The mechanical installation is timed so that the water 
tanks and heavy apparatus destined for the upper parts of the 
building shall arrive when the derricks are working on the 
floor on which these facilities are to be placed. When the top 
is reached, there is generally a number of bulky pieces, such 
as fans, fan motors, elevator motors and like accessories, to be 
set, and the steel derrick handles these into place. Equipment 
of this sort is more or less delicate, and the protection and care 
of it until the building shall be enclosed become a part of the 
problem. 

Is it a wonder that the job superintendent is apt to be found 
in his office at any hour of the night, or that he is only to be 
found there at odd times during the day? It is a strenuous and 
exciting business, but also an inspiring business, for nowhere 
in man’s endeavor do we find the elation that attends a swift- 
moving, well-organized skyscraper operation. The thrill is al- 
ways there, the unexpected is always happening; the satisfac- 
tion of planning in the welter of all this activity, and of having 
the plans come out right, of seeing the beautifully finished 


ee 


a ee ee ee we ee ee ee 


ee ee eee ee a 


) 


MECHANICAL INSTALLATION Q85 


building come true and clean out of a complexity of elements 
that only a trained builder understands, this is in itself an un- 
paralleled triumph that gives a man the satisfaction of knowing 
that he is proficient in leadership. 


GHAPTER 2x2 
LABOR AND BUILDING 


Tue building problem may be said to be, in a large mea- 
sure, the labor problem. In the mind of the public, labor seems 
to be the whole problem. No large building project is ever dis- 
cussed without an anxious inquiry about labor, and it is all too 
true that the everlasting bickerings, strikes and turmoil of 
building labor furnish that unreliable element that has led the 
public to regard a building operation as the most hazardous 
and uncertain of business undertakings. It might be ventured 
at this point that all of this uncertainty is not chargeable to 
labor, although labor has much of it to answer for. The 
owner, through his lack of understanding or withholding of 
decision, furnishes some of it. The architect, through trying 
to straddle between decision and indecision, furnishes a cer- 
tain amount, and the very nature of the complexity of build- 
ing furnishes a share that is never adequately considered. 

A factory owner who turns out a product year after year in 
the comfortable surroundings of a modern plant can tell to a 
nicety just what that product is costing. When he comes to his 
building, he inquires the number of thousand of brick, the 
cost per thousand of laying them, and then proceeds to figure 
for himself the cost of his work. Not he nor any man living 
can tell in detail how a stormy week sometime in the course of 
the construction will affect the cost of the brickwork. In the 
first place, that particular brickwork is unlike any that was 
ever done before, a new creation in an office building, let us 
suppose, designed and constructed for a particular situation 
that has never been experienced in exactly the same way. True, 
certain standards prevail, but as a creation, the building is a 

286 


LABOR AND BUILDING Q87 


recombination of a thousand and one elements interspersed 
with new ideas and perhaps the owner’s peculiarities of re- 
quirement—and the unit price of laying a brick, the owner 
thinks should be known to a nicety. 

And building labor, in the turmoil of its stormy, belliger- 
ent existence, has never had time to stop and think of these 
things, much less has it been of clear enough conscience to 
permit sober discussion of the subject. Finally, it has concerned 
itself not a whit with giving—the hard rules of necessity of 
employment take care of that—but it has bent its whole en- 
ergy to receiving. “How much money can I receive, and what 
power can I exert to compel the giving?” has filled the hori- 
zon of building labor throughout its modern, unionized exist- 
ence. No wonder that unionism strikes consternation in the 
mind of the uninitiated owner who has read in the news- 
papers year after year of the brawling and disorders of violent 
building trades strikes; the bombings, the ““entertainment com- 
mittees,” the violence and property damage. 

Yet there is another side which no builder can in justice 
overlook. Intermittency stalks as a spectre throughout the 
building trades mechanic’s life. He has no fixed employer, 
but must needs travel from job to job performing his highly 
specialized task in the narrow confines of his trade’s unionism, 
set by the customs of the trade, aggravated by an even greater 
artificial limitation that the manifold unions connected with 
building impose. An employer must, by the very nature of his 
relationship, snatch the man up, use him for a few weeks, 
and incontinently lay him off on the subdivision of an hour. 
If he works for the same employer again, it is likely to be on 
another job, under another superintendent, as though it were 
a wholly different employer—and again the length of employ- 
ment is uncertain. Inclement weather breaks up his time. Er- 
rors of management that interrupt the smooth flow of ma- 
terial, delays of the work wholly unexplained to him, all muili- 


288 | SKYSCRAPERS 


tate against continuity of employment; and his detachment 
from personal contact with his employer leaves him little hu- 
man relationship on which a mutual understanding could be 
discussed. A few, a very few, favorably known workmen re- 
ceive measurably steady employment and are known to their 
principal employer, but their number in the great mass of 
metropolitan building trades artisans is negligible. 

There is a tragic pity about all of this, for there is no thrill 
dearer to a builder’s heart than the thrill of knowing and talk- 
ing with and being on terms of friendly intimacy with the 
artisans doing his work. They have so much in common in 
the pride of accomplishment; some splendid utility created 
that both can discuss and admire in the spirit of common un- 
derstanding. Unlike a machine operation in a factory, build- 
ing is one succession of new and stirring incidents, always 
something fresh, always something finished and behind us, 
with new adventure beckoning. 

If the builder has endeavored to translate the skill and 
ability of his men into dollars for himself without due regard 
to their equity in the accomplishment, he has at least been 
over-accused of avarice; for the builder is fortunate, and at 
the same time possesses a high degree of business acumen, 
who can, year after year, keep his overhead organization efhi- 
cient and well employed, and make a profitable income com- 
mensurate with his effort and risk. So we have the picture of 
two factions arrayed in opposition through the very nature of 
their common occupation. 

Labor leadership does little to lee the gap. We have much 
peace-time vaporing about the community of interest, but only 
in the last few years have discernible traces of the substance 
of such interest been in evidence. Neither does business turn 
its hand. The building industry, disjointed, disorganized, with 
a clientele suspicious and largely uninformed of its complexity, 
with an architectural profession almost equally uninformed 


Oe ee ee Se ee ee eS eee 


Dy Eo endl oy ws Fie et ee 
: eo ee 


— * 


LABOR AND BUILDING 289 


and clamoring for a recognition of superior knowledge of the 
problem which it never possessed and cannot maintain, with the 
banking and lending institutions throughout the country tak- 
ing no stand for a stabilized industry, but relying on an as- 
sumed satisfaction with plans and specifications made in a 
medium they do not comprehend and written in a technical 
language that they cannot fully understand, with bonding 
companies as ready to insure the performance of an inexperi- 
enced beginner as an experienced builder, so long as the pre- 
mium is paid, with importunate novices clamoring that they 
can build cheaper than any one else, with the sheriff waiting 
in the treasurer’s office while frantic collections are being gar- 
nered in the banker’s office to stave off for another brief 
period the hand of bankruptcy that overtakes fifty per cent of 
his kind in every five-year cycle—is it any wonder that we have 
never met seriously to stabilize labor relationships? Is it not a 
greater wonder that absolute anarchy in the industry does not 
completely overwhelm it? 

The state of mind into which modern labor leadership has 
put building trades labor, together with the many immunities 
thrown around the unions by law in a time when labor was so 
definitely the under-dog, has freed the labor leader from prac- 
tically all restraint. Enormous power unaccompanied by re- 
sponsibility either to law or, fiscally, to their own followers, 
has had its inevitable result. To me the everlasting wonder 1s 
not that there is occasional graft, but that there is so little, the 
opportunities considered. 

In some instances these opportunities have invited into labor 
a predatory type of Tweed politician, who finds the hunting 
better and safer here than in a chastened municipal govern- 
ment that used to be his private preserve. He is no more con- 
cerned with labor as such than a bookmaker is in improving 
the breed of race horses, and being unburdened with scruples, 
he has a vast advantage in the struggle for control with labor 


290 SKYSCRAPERS 


leaders of another type. But fortunately, perhaps providen- 
tially, the majority is another type of leader, men with all the 
unselfish zeal, single-minded devotion to a cause, and personal 
probity of crusaders. They sometimes are fanatics, but their 
honesty is as fanatical as their economics. They are awake to 
and concerned with the situation, but handicapped in com- 
bating it by the refusal of the rank and file to see beyond the 
ends of their noses. 

Hostilely arrayed, both types, however, not only are agreed 
on a policy of securing the highest possible wage for the work- 
er, but manifestly connive at slowing up production. Its pur- 
pose is to spread the work over a longer space of time. It mani- 
fests itself, for example, in the increasing refusal of carpenters 
to hang doors that have been mortised for locks at the mill, 
their refusal to set “‘assembled” trim; or, in the case of the 
plasterers, the refusal to set “cast’’ mouldings, which must be 
“run” in place, tediously and at much greater expense. 

But capital or management being more concerned to-day 
with production than with pay, its answer has been to take 
as much thought and planning off the workmen as possible 
and so to simplify every task that the craftsman has only 
to lean against it to accomplish it. That is, as labor becomes 
more and more expensive per unit of work, capital endeavors 
to buy fewer and fewer units of work to be done at the site. It 
accomplishes this by lopping off non-essentials, devising new 
short cuts and by substituting the simplicity of the machine 
for the complexity of manual labor. Building labor is ever 
skeptical, and even now many an economy or short-cut of con- 
struction 1s forbidden the builder by union regulation. 

Capital’s purpose is to keep costs within competitive bounds 
that it may live; but witness how the process has worked out, 
unexpectedly, to produce simpler and better building. For 
example, the general substitution of metal doors and windows 
for wood in skyscrapers was brought about primarily by la- 


LABOR AND BUILDING 29] 


bor’s dragging its brakes. By fabricating window frames, trim 
and sash in metal units, we not only have more enduring and 
fire-proof windows, but we save six, separate, slow operations 
divided between several crafts. Cement floors not only are 
similarly superior to wooden floors, but their laying is a much 
simpler operation, and they can be installed as soon as the 
arches are ready and the pipes are in, while all woodwork 
must be protected from the dirt and tear of preliminary opera- 
tions. 

So wholly and powerfully unionized are the building trades 
that their wars now are waged, not against the employer, but 
largely among themselves, and the dictionaries must needs re- 
vise their definition of the word “‘strike.”’ Ninety per cent of 
all strikes in these trades to-day are the outcome of Jurisdic- 
tional disputes between crafts in which the employer is a help- 
less bystander and a circumspect neutral. 

A quarrel between the bricklayers and plasterers, breaking 
out in Florida during the boom, spread nationally. Neither 
would work on a job where the other was employed, and 
building was so crippled that the Hon. Elihu Root was called 
in to arbitrate the issue at last. Plastering and bricklaying have 
been closely allied crafts and it has been customary, outside of 
the larger cities, for the two unions to exchange working cards, 
an arrangement advantageous to both and to the employer. 
The bricklayers suspended this interchange in an effort to 
swallow the plasterers in Florida. The plasterers replied by en- 
deavoring to swallow the bricklayers; the original issue was 
subordinated and the struggle became a contest between rival 
leaders for power. 

The introduction of metal window frames and metal trim 
provoked a quarrel between the sheet metal workers and the 
carpenters as to which should do the metal trim. The car- 
penters, though numerically still a very strong body, have been 
badly crowded out of metropolitan building as less and less 


292 SKYSCRAPERS 


wood has been employed, and reduced principally to tempo- 
rary work such as arch centres and special scaffolding. They 
had always had jurisdiction over windows and trim, and they 
did not intend to lose any part of what little remained to them. 
The sheet metal workers replied that that was the carpenters’ 
hard luck; that the trim was metal and therefore obviously 
not a carpentry job. This dispute went on for ten years and 
was adjudicated repeatedly. Whichever side lost repudiated the 
arbitration and took to the field again like a Mexican general. 

Builders who operate in the field of skyscrapers nowadays — 
seldom sign agreements with labor unions. No union agree- 
ment stands in the face of a jurisdictional strike, and while a 
fantastic logic is sometimes attempted by the contending 
unions to show that it was the other fellow who broke the 
“agreement,” it is perfectly well understood that the em- 
ployer is simply unfortunately in the line of fire of the com- 
batants. . 

This jurisdictional strike business is, of course, the despair 
of the best leaders, who admit that it is the curse and may 
eventually be the downfall of the present system of unionism. 
I say “‘present system,” for there will be no downfall of organi- 
zation in its fundamentals. It represents a mighty and funda- 
mental principle of human advancement, essentially necessary 
in the scheme of things as civilization is organized. The pity 
of it is that the principle has been so freighted down with the 
fallacies embedded from the days when labor was indeed 
down-trodden and leadership was ignorant and militant. Capi- 
tal was then largely to blame, and to-day it is still to blame 
wherever it shows oppressive hostility. That hostility engen- 
ders proper suspicion from labor. Labor- knows little about 
the technic of management, finance and conservation, and 
all’ of this capital could teach labor if the barrier of distrust 
could be removed. 

The guerrilla origin of modern labor tactics bears the an- 


LABOR AND BUILDING 293 


cient traits inherited from barbarism, ruthless yet admittedly 
effective. Nurtured in combat and enforced through militancy, 
unionism has had little opportunity to learn the graces of civili- 
zation, to say nothing of civilization itself. That it has come so 
far on the path is the surest evidence of its fundamental sound- 
ness, and one of its great problems now is the*gap that exists 
in its own ranks between the occasional savage and vicious 
ignoramus in labor leadership flirting with socialism or any 
other ism, and the sterling, capable men who hold the high 
positions in the labor movement of to-day. By the very nature 
of their faulty structure, it is often necessary for the better 
leaders to espouse the cause of the most notorious labor crook. 
It is the age-old picture that history has shown a hundred times, 
but which, through the swiftness of the drama, we perceive but 
dimly. The lower branch of labor to-day is still the field army 
of insurgency, with combat the only thing it knows and a keen 
appetite for pillage and plunder. In its upper reaches, labor 1s 
trying to settle down to orderly civil government with laws 
and courts and responsibilities. As yet, it has not the power to 
discipline nor the temerity to disagree with its field generals 
who still flout the fripperies of orderly government. 

Figures are difficult to obtain, but it is fair to say that the 
average wage of even the most fortunate skilled mechanic, 
taken over a period of a year, can hardly be more than a half 
to three-quarters of that year’s earning capacity. Intermittency 
curses building labor, and the mounting hourly wages have 
sharpened the keenness of the employer to get no high-priced 
mechanic on the payroll except at the last possible moment, 
and get him off at the earliest possible moment. Labor insists 
on an ever-increasing division of labor, and in the large cities 
this is carried almost to the point of absurdity. For example, 
there are wood lathers and metal lathers, stone cutters and 
stone masons and, of course, the well-known separation be- 
tween plumbers, steam fitters and two or three other varieties 


294, SKYSCRAPERS 


of pipe workers, such as installers of sprinkler systems, etc. 
This last group all deal with commercial pipe, their tools, ap- 
pliances and technic practically identical, and certainly the 
intelligence that governs good craftsmanship in one could 
be easily and simply applied to another. The few abortive at- 
tempts that have been put forth by labor unions to meet inter- 
mittency have been as annoying as they are impractical, and 
while employers have tolerated the wholly arbitrary union rules 
that are forced upon them, the attempts have made no contri- 
bution to the solution of this great economic problem. 

Old age, illness and unemployment are, of course, the tradi- 
tional terrors of the wage earner’s life, but the high risk of all 
three in the building trades has only been vaguely sensed by 
the labor unions and the solution meagrely, if fatuously, at- 
tempted. All unions, of course, have a strike benefit sum which 
will last as long as the money holds out. The strike stipend to 
members in good standing is only a fractional part of the daily 
wage during employment. But economically there would be 
no quarrel with this if it were not for the militancy which fre- 
quently supports a strike for some wholly unessential objec- 
tive, considered in the light of dollars and cents returns. Of 
course, the strike for jurisdictional predominance is a spectre 
of increasing moment that shadows the whole building indus- 
try, though wholly senseless economically. 

But to return to the basic problems: in actual practice, after 
paying strike benefits, the union treasuries, so far as one is able 
to observe, do little more than pay extravagant undertakers’ 
bills in the case of death benefits, and the old age problem is 
barely scratched. One of the unions has set up a home for the 
aged and indigent, but it remains to be seen whether it will 
have all of the defects of public institutional care—the most 
humiliating experience that can come to a man who has been 
useful and active. 

The game itself is a killer. One passing a large metropolitan 


LABOR AND BUILDING 295 


building during construction is apt to notice the young, virile 
men, with nonchalant manner, who so confidently go about 
their tasks. Few people stop to consider these same men after 
twenty-five or thirty years of this rigorous, exposed life. They 
are hearty eaters and gulp their food, frequently carried to the 
job cold, or if bought at the ubiquitous hot-dog stand, it is 
generally of the fried variety with little thought of the science 
of dietetics. Their inordinate use of tobacco and small atten- 
tion to dental hygiene, nowadays recognized as of such im- 
portance to middle-aged good health, leave them susceptible 
to the occupational ailments which their work sometimes en- 
genders. Necessarily inconvenient are the sanitary facilities, and 
this, although the builder does his utmost to make proper pro- 
vision, promotes constipation and stasis which usually are met 
by drug store quackery. The admiring spectator sees young 
men, but little realizes the shadow that an uncertain future 
is casting. The experienced builder, however, sees the prema- 
turely aged building mechanic, sometimes a pathetic figure, 
standing on the sidewalk week after week, in the furtive hope 
that a job commensurate with his now narrowed abilities is 
available for him. Unionism seems to have done little or noth- 
ing toward the solution of this, the most vital of labor problems. 

The provision for death benefits on the part of the union 
seems to give an almost tragic satisfaction to these men. They 
have hardly been told to look beyond, and contemplate the 
value of life insurance and an intelligent system of pensioning. 
Builders and the building industry generally are themselves 
the sufferers, but so long as the relationship is continued as a 
field of combat, there is no common ground for the solution 
of these questions by a scheme in which both can join. 

So far as I know, there are no scientific statistics on these 
matters. They should be a most vital concern of labor and la- 
bor unions. Indeed, it is not too fantastic to think that there 
is a mighty destiny for labor and labor unions in paths already 


296 SKYSCRAPERS 


pointed out by insurance companies. Certainly their militancy 
will not get them these benefits, and the cruel fact still pursues 
them that, although hourly wages have mounted higher and 
higher, even artificially under field generalship, the wage per 
year of the individual has not grown proportionately. 

Restriction of immigration has greatly aided and is no 
doubt a magnificent temporary boon to organized labor. Up 
to a few years ago restriction of apprenticeship and new mem- 
bership in labor unions in large cities became almost a fetish, 
until the leaders suddenly perceived that their memberships 
were dying out at alarming rates and that dues were accord- 
ingly falling off. Industry was measurably slowed down, and 
the exultation of the shallow-minded leader that jobs would 
have to wait their turn for the pleasure of the building trades 
mechanic soon found its answer in the unexpected lopping off 
of non-essentials, the switching of facilities from one kind of 
material to a wholly different kind, or in the omission alto- 
gether of many of the improvements that civilization had 
wrought. This commenced to bring labor to a realization that 
back of all the nonsense lay great economic forces. 

Somewhere out of this welter of confusion and misunder- 
standing there will be developed between the builders and la- 
bor a plan for mitigating intermittency, for increasing the 
yearly wage rather than the hourly wage, and for bringing 
about an abandonment of this senseless hostility which exists 
to a large measure through the flush eras of building construc- 
tion. Controversy, kept up by labor leaders who have brought 
their organizations into ascendancy in this great field of in- 
tensive metropolitan development, may some day be super- 
seded by co-operation; but not until the sane acceptance of the 
great economic laws, and. more particularly the bringing of 
labor organizations within the existing laws that all other men 
have to follow. 

No other industry is so exposed to labor abuses as is build- 


Se eae 


- 


LABOR AND BUILDING 297 


ing. I am avowedly a union sympathizer and would certainly 
be a union member if I were a craftsman. That is partly be- 
cause I believe collective bargaining is a great social advance, 
and partly because the great bulk of the competent craftsmen 
in the building trades in large cities are union men. Labor costs 
are a charge against the ‘property and therefore against the 
owner, life insurance companies, bond houses, investors, renters 
and the public in general. Labor is not wholly the builder’s 
problem. 

On the other hand, the owner cannot be expected to give 
battle for a principle; inasmuch as he builds only once usually, 
he would be foolhardy to challenge the unions single-handed, 
even if he were financially able. No sane builder would touch 
a contract that did not contain a strike clause protecting him 
against all delays due to walkouts. And were the owner both 
able and willing to fight a strike, his underwriters lying be- 
hind him with great mortgages dependent upon the earnings 
of the building would not give him any encouragement in do- 
ing so. When labor trouble arises on a job, the owner goes at 
once to the builder and asks anxiously, “Can't we fix this up?” 
Or worse yet, “I£ you don’t fix it up, [ll take as contract away 
from you.’ 

The only possible answer, and one that has been tried with 
some success in certain cities, is a combination of owner, build- 
er and bondholder with a defense fund of millions and a pro- 
gramme as militant as that of labor. In such a war the power 
of labor might be broken. It is a two-edged sword, however, 
and for my part, I want nothing to do with it. 

One of the building labor’s just complaints and a basis from 
which it argues for higher wages is the hazard of the occupa- 
tion. Not all trades are exposed equally to hazards, but it is un- 
fortunately true that the occupation of any workman around 
a large building operation is more or less dangerous. This fact 
has been recognized by our legislators, and compulsory com- 


298 SKYSCRAPERS 


pensation insurance is now in force in nearly every state in the 
Union. Only five states are without some form of compensation 
laws as this is being written in 1928. They are North and South 
Carolina, Florida, Mississippi, and Arkansas. Men who are in- 
jured in the course of their employment in these states must 
seek their remedy under the old Employer’s Liability Law; 
that is, they must sue their injury claims out in court if they 
cannot come to an agreement for compensation with their em- 
ployers. 

All of the other states have laws which make it compulsory 
for employers to take out compensation insurance. There are 
four forms by which the state allows an employer to insure; 
first, to insure in the state fund, if the state operates a fund 
insurance; second, to insure in a stock company; third, to in- 
sure in a mutual association; or fourth, to become himself an 
insurer—that is, to assume liability for the payment of com- 
pensation direct to his employees, in which case he is required 
to submit to the department administering the compensation 
law proof of his financial ability to pay compensation, and fur- 
ther is required to deposit with such department securities for 
the fulfillment of his obligations under the compensation law. 

The rates to be paid to the insuring companies, or into an 
indemnity fund if the employer is self-insuring, are fixed by 
law and differ in different states. They are based on the 
amount of payroll applicable to each class of workmen, and 
the employer is required to segregate the classifications in ac- 
cordance with the instructions that the several states lay down. 
For example, in New York, the rate on steel erectors in 1928 
was $24.93 per one hundred dollars of payroll, while in New 
Jersey the same occupation carried a rate of only $9.90. Car- 
penters were rated at $17.11 in New York, but in New Jersey 
they carried a rate of $4.50. Masons at the same time were 
rated at $6.62 per one hundred dollars of payroll in New 
York, and in New Jersey were rated at $2.70. There is a rea- 


LABOR AND BUILDING 299 


son for this apparent discrepancy, arising out of the difference 
of experience of the two states in the casualties suffered in the 
past. 

Deaths are, of course, not the only basis for compensation. 
Also, the specific allotments under a given form of accident 
are different in the several states, which directly bears on the 
premium paid by the employer. In New York, ona death claim, 
a widow would be entitled to compensation during her widow- 
hood, and the children would be entitled to compensation until 
each becomes eighteen years of age. New Jersey provides com- 
pensation to dependents for a maximum period of five hundred 
weeks. For the loss of an eye, New York provides compensa- 
tion for one hundred and sixty weeks; New Jersey, one hun- 
dred weeks. The maximum amount paid in New York for 
casualties as above recited is $25 a week; in New Jersey, itis $17 
a week. New Jersey 1s cited simply as an example for compari- 
son. Nearly all of the states require rates comparable with New 
Jersey's; New York requires the highest rates and compels the 
payment of the highest indemnities. 

In New York state, when a man is severely injured, the 
Compensation Commission has a hearing on the case approxi- 
mately every six to eight weeks. The hearings are continued 
during the time that the injured employee is receiving medical 
treatment. When he is discharged from medical treatment, the 
employee is examined by the state physicians, who arrive at 
some opinion as to the physical condition that the man is in 
after being discharged by the treating physician. If it is recom- 
mended by the state that treatment of a special nature be con- 
tinued, it is so ordered. Several months after the treatment is 
discontinued, the case is brought before the Commission, at 
which time all the medical evidence is taken into consideration 
by the referee in charge of the case, and an award is made for 
any physical loss which the injured has suffered, and then the 
case is closed. 


800 SKYSCRAPERS 


If the injured man is so disabled as to be unable to follow 
his usual occupation, he is instructed to secure whatever work 
he can and keep a record of the time he works, together with 
the amount he earns. If his earnings are less than the amount 
he earned prior to being injured, he is allowed to receive com- 
pensation for two-thirds of the difference between the amount 
he earned previously and the amount he is able to earn after 
the injury. 

It is apparent from the foregoing rates that the picturesque 
occupation of the steel erector is about as hazardous as it seems 
to be from the street. In fact, steel erection is the most danger- 
ous occupation in construction and carries with it the greatest 
number of accidents. The Bridgeman’s Magazine, the official 
organ of the union, in an issue a few years ago, made a 
résumé of the recorded accidents over the preceding twenty 
years. From an outsider’s point of view, the classification of 
accidental deaths seems entirely arbitrary and directed to no 
particular purpose, except perhaps to show the manifold ways 
in which a man may be hurt; but the truth was there, an ap- 
palling record of nearly two thousand violent deaths with a 
gradually increasing membership over the twenty years, that 
probably averaged fifteen thousand men in membership for 
the period. To-day, that union membership is said to be about 
thirty thousand, with two-thirds of these engaged in hazard- 
ous, outside-erection work, the remaining third being oc- 
cupied in shops and on more sheltered, incidental work; for 
the members of this union also erect the interior, ornamental 
iron, and in some localities even control the placing of rein- 
forcing rods in reinforced concrete, an occupation entailing 
small hazard. 

But the record of deaths does not tell the story. One reliable 
observer who had survived twenty years at this calling states 
that he knows no steel erector who has followed the occupa- 
tion for five years without having had a more or less serious 


a 
a 
4 


LABOR AND BUILDING 301 


accident. Another bit of information vouchsafed by an ob- 
servant walking delegate is that, over a period of ten years, 
there was an accidental death somewhere in the national mem- 
bership on an average of one every thirty-three hours of em- 
ployed time. 

In the line of his duties, this delegate visits injured mem- 
bers in the hospitals of New York City. He states that there 
are always ten to twenty men from his local of about eighteen 
hundred members in the hospitals of New York, as the result 
of the current accidents of their occupation, these cases all be- 
ing serious enough to demand hospital treatment, some, of 
course, resulting in death, while a considerable number result 
in permanent injury. 

Intermittency in the steel erector’s employment accounts for 
the loss of at least fifty per cent of-his time. It is an unusual 
operation that takes the steel erectors longer than six weeks, 
and it generally requires from one to four weeks for the erec- 
tor to find another job. He is lucky if the next one is of four 
weeks’ duration. 

This same union endeavors to maintain an old age and disa- 
bility pension. Members of at least twenty years’ good standing 
are eligible when they become sixty years of age. There are 
few applicants for such pensions, however, for the union avers 
that nearly all of the men who stick at the occupation for so 
long a time meet accidental death or hopeless disability. The 
old age and disability pensions in this union are merged and 
considered as a single responsibility; twenty-five dollars a 
month being paid to proven beneficiaries. Throughout the 
national union, the total demands on this fund are about one 
hundred and fifty thousand dollars annually, and this is met by 
levies on the total membership. Dues in this union run twenty- 
eight dollars a year, but this is increased to about fifty dollars 
a year through special assessments, largely required by the pen- 
sion and disability fund. 


$02 SKYSCRAPERS 


And so we have a few of the high spots of the casualties of 
the most hazardous of the building trades occupations; also 
we have a grim picture of these men, practically unassisted, 
grappling in their crude but practical way for a solution of an 
insoluble problem. Their whole system is built by the sweat 
of fellow-member assistance; suspicious of business and of 
their employers, savage in their attacks, unreasoning and stub- 
born, not to say ignorant, in their economics, they are, withal, 
intensely humane in their purposes toward each other when 
casualties do occur. It is a soul-stirring epic and one that should 
command the most intensive co-operation on the part of all 
who benefit by construction, and that means all the elements 
of our national life, for building 1s of the essence of our funda- 
mental, national progress. 

The liquor question is acute in labor circles, as in all others, 
and since the enactment of prohibition laws, it seems to form 
one of the principal topics of conversation among the building 
trades, as it does elsewhere. It is, of course, known that the 
American Federation of Labor is squarely opposed to the law 
in its present drastic form, and since the organized building 
trades represent about nine hundred and fifty thousand of the 
two and a half million membership of the Federation, it may 
be assumed that these artisans are practically to a man opposed 
to the prohibition laws under which the country now is gov- 
erned. 

Some industries report that there has been great improve- 
ment in labor morale since the enactment of prohibition and 
cite the diminution of accidents and Monday absences. No 
such report could be made for the building industry. Men oc- 
casionally came to work drunk on Monday before prohibition, 


and they now occasionally come to work drunk. Nobody | 


knows how many there were in the pre-Volstead days, nor is 
there any record of the number under the present régime. As 
fair an observation as any is that there is no change in the con- 


i be 


Bree i te 8 


Se ae ee ee ee oe 


1, th pe 


i id 


LABOR AND BUILDING 303 


dition and that, so far as any one can observe, the averages be- 
fore and after are about the same. 

One thing is certain regarding building eae in the large 
cities—the men get all the liquor they want, when they want 
it and as they want it. The complaint is only over the high cost 
and the bad quality. Union delegates report that the men ob- 
tain it whenever they please. Inquiry addressed to dozens of 
men at random throughout the industry evokes the same ready 
response; they can get liquor in abundance at any time on 
short notice. Most of the men know how to make it, and many 
of them do make it as a recreational pastime. They exchange 
and comparé information concerning the best formule and 
the best sources. No case has been reported of a man wanting 
liquor and not being able to obtain it freely and immediately. 

How to go about the solution of all of these labor prob- 
lems is not so easy. Business and business men might contrib- 
ute invaluable advice out of their own wide experience, but 
such advice has heretofore always been regarded with suspi- 
cion by labor. They have preferred to hew their own destiny. 
Yet how can business meet them? On what possible grounds? 
There are a few cases where proven criminals have been elected 
repeatedly to high union offices. Cases are on record where 
men still serving prison terms are re-elected, and from behind | 
prison bars continue their leadership. Vandalism and sabotage 
are too often applauded or smugly blinked by a shrewd union 
officialdom. On what possible ground can orderly business pro- 
cedure meet such conditions? 

And the further tragedy of this seemingly hopeless muddle 
is that the individual men.are generally so sterlingly honest at 
heart. Savage and aloof toward any patronizing attitude, they 
mellow instantly to the human touch. Discuss baseball, fish- 
ing, prize fights or local politics with them and they respond 
instantly. Even more alertly do they respond to serious com- 
ment on their own craft, in which they almost universally 


304 SKYSCRAPERS 


take pride. The question as to what business shall do in ex- 
tending the hand of fellowship to these beloved malcontents 
in the solution of their most acute problems in which they con- 
tinue to flounder is still almost wholly unsolved. 

Co-operation between business and organized labor in the 
building trades will come some day, and, in coming, it will 
bring inestimable human benefits. The menace to organized 
labor is the exploiting union politician and the disdain of busi- 
ness methods and legal restraint which he continually fosters. 
He panders to the worst characteristic of human nature, and 
uses his ever-ready, sure-fire slogan by which men, usually 
level-headed, may be stampeded into continuing folly. Perhaps 
there is something in the going relationship, now unperceived, 
that will develop into the medium of a common ground for 
a programme of mutual assistance. 


CHAPTER XXIII 
MODERN BUILDING-TRADES APPRENTICESHIP 


APPRENTICESHIP in modern skyscraper construction has been 
woefully neglected by the employers, and the commendable, 
if random and scattering, efforts of the labor unions to meet 
the perplexing problem have been aimed as much at creating 
a source of membership as at the inculcation of knowledge of 
craftsmanship. The problem is as old as craftsmanship itself, 
and throughout the ages, the history and development of 
handicraft have been interwoven with the apprentice problem, 
and torn between the contentions of the guilds and their suc- 
cessors, the labor unions, on the one hand, and the advocates 
of free and untrammeled rights of the individual on the other. 
Throughout the Middle Ages, and in fact down to the begin- 
ning of the last century, the problem was a relatively simple 
one. Even the advent of the early crude machinery that her- 
alded our mechanical age did not change the ancient customs 
of the guilds in the apprenticing of pupils, which were sea- 
soned by generations of usage and sanctioned by fundamen- 
tal laws that were almost universally accepted as defining the 
obligations and rights of apprentices. Then, in the swift up- 
heaval that turned nearly all economic production to a vastly 
greater and more complicated scale, the machine age, coupled 
with the tremendous strides of public education, engulfed the 
apprentice. He was almost lost sight of, and in the two or 
three generations that followed, the enormously widened hori- 
zon of choice of occupation brought with it a thousand diversi- 
ties of high specialization and opened undreamed-of fields for 
quick learning. The ultimate of this specialization is now typi- 
fied by our.automatic machine tender who, day after day and 

305 


306 SKYSCRAPERS 


year after year, performs his whole task by monotonously pull- 
ing a lever or stamping on a treadle. 

The building industry has not been without this trend to 
specialization, and one of its bugbears to-day is the tendency to 
create quickly trained workmen to do exclusively a small 
operation in what was once an incident to a hard-learned trade. 

Take the carpenter, whose traditional apprenticeship was 
from four to six years. An apprentice of old, with such a train- 
ing under the tutelage of a master workman, could do all 
kinds of carpentry, and indeed, was often a skilled cabinet 
maker. To-day we have carpenters who do nothing but work 
on concrete forms, sawing and nailing year in and year out. 
Such a man can be taught to be skilful in this specialty in a 
few months. Or take a carpenter who specializes in floor-lay- 
ing. Quantity production in so many thousand “‘squares’’ of 
floor laid is all that is asked of him. Cynics say of him that his 
sole requirement is to be strong in the back and weak in the 
head, yet the floor-laying specialist is with us—a product of 
our high division of labor. 

Then there are the wholly new occupations brought into 
being by the development of modern materials and appliances 
that have no counterpart in, or even resemblance to, things that 
went before. Floor-laying by specialized carpenters had hardly 
settled itself when the cement floor swept in as a competitor. 
A wholly different craft, a relative of masonry, and the occu- 
pation as an occupation was hurled into the maelstrom of 
union jurisdictional strife between two branches of masonry. 
As an occupation, floor-laying was almost wholly lost to the 
carpenter. Linoleum as a floor covering has made tremendous 
advances in the past decade. Cement floors, come to stay, af- 
ford a hard, unyielding surface that linoleum ideally supple- 
ments. What trade shall lay this new material? It takes skil- 
ful handling, yet the technic of laying it is hardly estab- 
lished. , 


MODERN BUILDING:TRADES APPRENTICESHIP 307 


Consider the steel erector. What apprenticeship shall he 
undergo? Admittedly, his is a more or less skilled occupation, 
yet the principal requirement of this spectacular calling is a 
steady nerve and ability to work on precarious footing at great 
height. True, he must be something of a rigger, and for these 
requirements, a sailor’s training is perhaps the path to appren- 
ticeship; but it is a long cry from the sea to the busy metro- 
politan construction job. Sailors who learn their trade are apt 
to want to stick to the sea—certainly there can be little hope 
of any fixed scheme of contact between these widely separated 
callings. | 

It is to be said to the everlasting credit of the labor unions 
that they have not avoided their responsibilities in regard to 
apprenticing, and it is beside the point to argue that they have 
carried on the work simply with a view to maintaining their 
membership. Indeed, why shouldn’t they, and in so doing, 
why shouldn’t they receive the very highest commendation 
for having rendered an inestimable social service ? 

In recent years, the problem of apprentices has been re- 
ceiving the attention of the building industry, or so much of 
it as will ally itself in any form of organization that can bring 
about a concerted action. The late Bert L. Fenner, of the cele- 
brated architectural frm of McKim, Mead & White, devoted 
a great deal of his time during the last few years of his life to 
this important question, and through his interest, the New 
York Building Congress fostered an apprenticeship plan that 
has become so well established as to warrant the prediction 
that it will be followed in the large centres all over the country. 

The New York Building Congress is an association com- 
posed of architects, builders, realtors, property owners, labor 
representatives, and others whose interest in any way attaches 
to the building industry. It is a non-partisan body interested 
only in matters that by general consent are recognized to be 
of value and benefit to the industry as a whole and the com- 


308 SKYSCRAPERS 


mon concern of all. The New York Building Congress makes 
itself felt through the Apprenticeship Commission, which in 
turn co-operates with the New York Board of Education. It 
is a delicate and heady business that the Apprenticeship Com- 
mission handles, and it proceeds with circumspection; but the 
results it has shown justify the assertion that the plan is a work- 
ing success. 

The Commission works in the following manner: When 
it appears to a considerable number of responsible people in an 
industry, say ten or more, that directed apprenticeship train- 
ing is needed, the Commission sends notice to the leaders in 
that industry and to labor representatives that an apprentice- 
ship plan seems desirable. Then follows a meeting of as many 
directly interested as can be brought together. If such a meet- 
ing sees the desirability of further action, the plan of action 
is discussed, and, if possible, certain fundamentals of the ob- 
jective and the procedure are asserted. Following this action, 
a committee is appointed, consisting of three members of the 
labor union of the craft affected, and three from the organiza- 
tion of the employers. This committee then goes to work in 


earnest and organizes a detailed plan of action to bring about ~ 


what they consider to be a course of training that will fit an 
apprentice to be a capable journeyman in the line of work 
under consideration. The number of boys that may be trained 
under the plan is carefully considered, for it is held to be preyj- 
udicial to the industry to produce more craftsmen in a given 
trade than will be accounted for by the “separations.” The 
word is here used to designate the men who, for any reason, 
separate from the trade under consideration, whether from 
death, illness or the abandonment of that occupation for some- 
thing else. The plan and curriculum having been agreed upon 
and the places of meeting of the classes having been arranged, 
apprentices are invited, through the offices of the Commission, 
the employers, or labor. An interesting fact is that the ex- 


oe ee a 


MODERN BUILDING-:TRADES APPRENTICESHIP 309 


penses of the Commission are defrayed, one-half by the labor 
union affected, and one-half by the employers. 

The curriculum generally extends over a period of from 
three to four years; the classes are generally conducted at 
night, and the boys must be employed in the trade during the 
day. Here variation sets in, according to the specific plan and 
trade under consideration. Some trades require an alternation 
of shop and class work; the practical application of some of 
the crafts can only be done in daylight, yet the “pencil work” 
may be carried on in night classes. The boys, before entering, 
have the course and its responsibilities explained to them, and 
they are shown just how they will progress from year to year 
if they do their work and remain with the course. The wages 
that the journeyman in the craft is being paid are discussed 
and understood. The school having started, accurate records of 
attendance and progress are kept, and as the boy advances by 
stages, say six months at a time, he is credited just as students 
in college are credited. Generally, the apprenticeship is limited 
to boys between the ages of sixteen and twenty-one. A fun- 
damental of the plan is that the boy’s wages while at his ap- 
prenticeship are fixed, and as he advances they are automati- 
cally increased. Thus, a plasterer-apprentice gets $2.40 a day 
for the first year, $3.20 the second, $5.04 the third, and $8.00 
the fourth year. Other trades of comparable ultimate journey- 
man’s wages start and advance with similar wage arrange- 
ments. 

The Commission, as organized i in the year 1928, had an ex- 
pense budget of about sixteen thousand dollars annually—a 
surprisingly small sum when the vast amount of work it does 
is considered. The administration by the Commission appears 
to cost about four dollars per year per apprentice under train- 
ing, which indicates that, in that year, about four thousand 
apprentices were being trained in the nine craft schools al- 
ready organized. There are three more in course of organiza- 


310 SKYSCRAPERS 


tion. The classes that were fully operating in the year 1928 
and the numbers of boys being trained in each trade were as 
follows: Bricklaying, 610; carpentry, 1275; marble cutting, 
125; granite cutting, 65; upholstering, 105; painting and 
decorating, 295; electrical workers, 625; plumbing 75; and 
plastering, 600. 

Owing to the diversity of trades and the various stages of 
progress of the work, it required seventy-seven classes to con- 
duct the training of approximately four thousand boys in this 
apprentice school. 

Here we have the first comprehensive apprenticeship plan 

since the days of the guilds. It ventures into new fields, in a 
way, for, unlike the guilds, it must wrestle with the problem 
of high specialization—the subdivision of the crafts—and it 
must meet the complex problems of latter-day trade unionism. 
It is admittedly an experiment, but enough has been done to 
show that it can be made to work. 
__ Several of the public schools throughout the country are in- 
terested, and as has been said, the New York Board of Edu- 
cation 1s assisting. Inquiry from large cities all over the coun- 
try is commencing to pour in to the Commission. Builders’ 
associations are commencing to take notice, and, altogether, 
the great work started in his spare hours by Bert L. Fenner 
may yet be his greatest monument. 

It must not be supposed that organized apprenticeship had 
been wholly neglected in other parts of the country. In San 
Francisco, following the years of union turbulence on the 
Coast that culminated in the formation of an alliance of capi- 
tal, builders, material dealers, real estate owners and business 
generally, a plan of opposing unionism such as has been briefly 
referred to in this volume was put into action, with the result 
that unionism was practically wiped out in that city. The 
problem of skilled mechanics became acute, and the citizens’ 
committee having the campaign in charge started schools of 


Ce aS Ie eee eS ae 


MODERN BUILDING-TRADES APPRENTICESHIP 311 


building craftsmanship. They reported unexpectedly favorable 
results and went so far as to announce that plumbers, steam- 
fitters and like craftsmen could be trained in a few months, 
bricklayers within a year, and even the difficult trade of all- 
around plasterer in less than two years. Such were the reports 
that came to the eastern cities. 

Boards of education in many of the large cities have been 
awake to the problem and some of them have established 
creditable courses in branches of the building trades. Cleve- 
land, Ohio, leads in this respect, and the completeness of its 
courses, together with the effective way they are turning out 
good building mechanics, is a matter of great interest to the 
building industry. 

In the meantime, it may be said that this organized activity 
is having its effect on the unions and their direct apprentice- 
ships. Many of the New York building trades have as yet es- 
tablished no contact with the Apprenticeship Commission, 
yet they are stirring on their own account to see that the gaps 
left by the “‘separations” are closed. Altogether there are 
healthy signs abroad in the land. 

Those unions that have not as yet endorsed the plan or 
brought their activities in line with it, are, of course, continu- 
ing the system of apprenticeship or membership replacement 
that their several problems require. 


CHAPTER XXIV 
FINDING OUT THE COST 


We have seen the relationship between the owner, archi- 
tect and builder and their interdependence, if the greatest mea- 
sure of efficiency 1s to be obtained in a large building opera- 
tion. The architect represents the owner in that he is charged 
with translating into plans and specifications the owner’s re- 
quirements; but until the owner shall have been advised as to 
the probable cost and availability of a great many things that 
may be used in his building, he cannot clearly decide in de- 
tail just what he does want. Moreover, a decision to proceed in 
a certain way in one line of work may entail a readjustment of 
several other lines. Architects sense this complexity from the 
very outset and, in an endeavor to short-cut the orderly pro- 
cedure and further, in their reluctance to yield one iota of 
their commanding position in relation to purchase and sub- 
contract, they sometimes essay to supply unsupported opinion 
to the owner as to costs and things available. There is proba- 
bly no business of importance in all of American industry that 
is so opinion-ridden as construction, and certainly no other 
where assumption is built on assumption when it comes to 
planning, as in the projection of a complicated metropolitan 
building. Moreover, these assumptions as to cost on the part of 
architects, and the assurance with which they will sometimes 
put forth hearsay and unsupported opinion, is the first step on 
the road to the trouble and misunderstanding that at times 
seem in such a large measure to beset construction work. True, 
some architects know costs and have within their own organi- 
zations accurate cost information supported by an organized 

312 


Na a a 


FINDING OUT THE COST oOo 


service which, in effect, is the same that the builder furnishes. 
Where such a combination exists the architect may be, in fact, 
a capable builder as well, and no one could possibly object to 
such a business combination, even though some disgruntled 
builder might denounce the dual organization as inimical to 
the rights of his ancient and honorable order. 

The architect, as we have seen, is the leader of a group of 
three—himself, his structural engineer, and his mechanical 
engineer. Now, modern architecture, of itself, is in fact three 
businesses, or, to put the matter another way, the architect in 
his service to the owner must supply three functions which, 
while interdependent, may be considered independently to il- 
lustrate their separation. 

First, there is the design of architecture, that fundamental 
ability on which the profession from time immemorial has 
been founded. Until the advent of the skyscraper, design was 
overwhelmingly the major part of the architect’s function. 
The cathedrals illustrate this; primarily they were great things 
of beauty, their utilitarianism being easily satisfied by their 
simple, if extensive, floor plans. Palaces and chateaux were 
similarly simply large numbers of rooms, each with a chim- 
ney perhaps, but certainly without a thought of the com- 
plexity that later developments have compelled. So the design 
of architecture came first, and it is because of this that good 
design in our national architecture has always been looked 
upon as a prerequisite of popular approval. 

Second, comes what may be called the construction of archi- 
tecture; that is, the understanding of all of the forms of con- 
struction and equipment and the intensive application of this 
knowledge for the benefit of the specific problem in hand. It 
is here that the engineers serve, bringing to the problem all 
the appliances and devices afforded by the latest development 
in the art, always with due regard to the limitations of cost 
and the extent of the undertaking. The construction of archi- 


314 SKYSCRAPERS 


tecture would also include scientific planning and detailing, 
the obtaining of the most adequate and economical space ar- 
rangement and the arrangement of the facilities to the best 
possible advantage from a utilitarian point of view. 

Finally, there is the business of architecture. Here the archi- 
tect must be a good business man in his relation to his client, 
in the management of his own affairs, his office and operating 
forces, and particularly his business relations with the builder 
and the builder’s dependents. It requires a well equipped and 
organized architect’s office to do the thing successfully, for 
good business administration is as important to the progress of 
a great building operation as good banking is important to its 
financing. Some architects are good designers and stop there. 
They know something about planning and not so much about 
construction. Again, there are some architects who are both 
good designers and fairly capable in all matters of planning 
and construction, but are not so well equipped to handle the 
business incidental to the complicated affairs in which a sky- 
scraper project can easily be allowed to drift. 

However, it is that fortunate combination of well doing in 


all three branches that makes the modern successful architect’s — 


office of to-day. If owners could only comprehend the risk they 
run in employing an architect simply because he can make a 
pleasing design, the business of building would be cleared of a 
deal of the grief that besets it. The pity of it is that right at 
hand in any of our great metropolitan centres are architectural 
organizations well-equipped and organized, versed and able in 
all three of the indispensable branches. Owners are sometimes 
at fault in their failure to use care and judgment in the selec- 
tion of an architect, and discover their error all too late. There 
are cases on record where an enthusiastic owner has suc- 
cumbed to a pretty picture, conveniently assuming that he 
must be dealing with a competent architect, without so much 
as visiting his office or inquiring into his facilities. 


ny _— o 2 i “ 
eT Se ee ee ie ies 


FINDING OUT THE COST 315 


On rare occasions the building industry meets that archaic 
survival that assumes that every one is dishonest, and to him 
the temptation is very great to foster the fallacy that, were it 
not for the architect, the owner would be unmercifully cheated 
by the builder. This outworn fetish has left its scars on the 
mind of the building profession. 

We hear much back-door whispering among builders about 
how some one knows this or that architect and how, in a 
certain big job about to be let, a golf course architectural ac- 
quaintance is sure to count in his favor. This frame of mind 
gets the builder to believing that architects give out work and 
designate contractors. Such is not the case. Architects seldom 
have more than a negative voice in the scheme of things. The 
owner who can afford a two-million-dollar skyscraper is likely 
to be a man who decides his own business deals himself, and 
while he may have the most complete confidence in his archi- 
tect, there is not one case in a hundred where the owner turns 
a large building project over to his architect and bids him go 
and employ a contractor. What really happens is that the 
owner inquires at sources of information that he thinks relia- 
ble as to the standing and ability of certain builders he is con- 
sidering. His architect is consulted among others. It is a brave 
architect indeed who would say that this or that builder is best 
equipped to do the work. Such a position would lay the archi- 
tect open to inquiry as to why he advocated any particular one, 
and while his motive would in no way be questioned, there 
are not many architects who have any accurate means of eval- 
uating the relative services of three or four leading builders. 
There may be good and cogent reasons why at a particular 
time one builder would be better equipped than another, but 
the standards so far set, both in the building industry and in 
architecture, preclude anything but generalization on the sub- 
ject. What the importunate builder is really seeking from the 
architect is that good opinion shall not be withheld. 


316 SKYSCRAPERS 


One thing is sure, and that is if an architect tells his client 
not to employ a certain builder, that builder will have an al- 
most insuperable obstacle placed in his way. Off-hand con- 
demnation on the part of some architects is all too common, 
and in fairness it is to be said that it is doubtful whether 
architects realize the damaging effect of their negative opin- 
ion. More sinister is the architect’s condemnation arising from 
a prior experience, where the builder’s unforgivable sin was 
that he would not accede to the architect’s every request. Such 
adverse opinion from architects is little short of blackmail, and 
is prevalent enough to be given attention in the standard form 
of contract endorsed by the American Institute of Architects. 
In that excellent document, in its later editions, there occur 
clauses requiring equitable relationship and fair dealing with 
builders, and one who has followed the development of the in- 
dustry realizes that these clauses have been inserted in response 
to a general demand that the arbitrary and capricious attitude 
that has been scandalously overdone at times, even by archi- 
tects of standing, shall hereafter be abandoned in favor of 
equity to all concerned, regardless of the inconvenience that 
may ensue. 

Architects nearly always have representatives on the work, 
whose function it is to interpret plans, make inspections, and 
in general supervise in the owner’s interest. It is a most neces- 
sary service on a large operation, and a capable architect’s 
superintendent renders an invaluable service to the smooth 
running of the work. No honest builder need fear the archi- 
tect’s man; yet it is important at times that the architect him- 
self do a little supervision of his own people, for the discretion- 
ary powers that such a man must have need occasional review- 
ing. As has been inferred, the great majority of these men are 
helpful, and, indeed, indispensable factors of progress, but once 
in a while a builder will have an impossible figure placed on 
his work; and when this occurs, the work is sure to suffer. 


a 


FINDING OUT THE COST S1e 


One professional of this latter sort based his claim for con- 
sideration for employment on the fact that he had caused the 
contractor to lose money on every job he had ever superin- 
tended. The calamitous aspect of his existence did not strike 
him. He was intent on proving that he had always compelled 
the contractor to give the owner more than a dollar’s worth 
for a dollar. Such people are, of course, a liability and a scourge 
on any operation on which they lay their blighting hands. 
Modern well-organized builders will, of course, not stand for 
their presence on an operation of importance. If an architect’s 
superintendent cannot perform his function of a helpful con- 
sultant and co-ordinator, a medium of quick adjustment and a 
clearing house of information, he is not worth his salt. Per- 
forming these functions well, his office as inspector and critic 
will automatically take care of itself, and the owner’s interest 
will be more than served by his helpful presence on the job. 
One of the problems of both the architect and builder is to 
acquaint the owner first with what he is going to get, and sec- 
ond, to educate him in the few months of their mutual contact 
with a technic that has taken both of them years to learn. 
Building seems so obviously simple to many owners that they 
are apt to weary at discussion of it. Everybody is sure he knows 
a lot about building, and there are few men who would not 
like to try their hands at it; they are so convinced that they 
could immediately correct the inherent evils and do things so 
much better than they are being done. The spectator from the 
street sees the laborer loafing over his task, the plumber’s 
helper smoking a cigarette, and the bricklayer standing idle 
while a mortar tub is being filled. He knows that he could 
cure all of these things, and at once he imagines himself a suc- 
cessful builder. The rage of an owner who is paying the bills 
and sees these things may be imagined, and yet it may surprise 
him to learn that these happenings are not the principal con- 
cern of the builder. True, a builder is alert to correct abuses 


318 SKYSCRAPERS 


and has devised a reasonably efficient system for reducing 
them to a minimum, but after all, this petty loafing, if it is not 
carried to excess, is but the small-change of an operation. The 
builder’s superintendent is thinking about ways to cut the total 
number of bricklayers’ helpers from three per mechanic to 
one and a half per mechanic—an arrangement of bins and 
runways, the location of the hoist with respect to the material 
storage space, the ways of stocking the floors in advance with 
brick and tile, the time chosen to do this stocking that he may 


accomplish his purpose. These are the big decisions and the 


ones on which the progress and economy of the work at the 
site depend. Little wonder that the superintendent does not 
get over-excited about a loafer; his case is easy. The superin- 
tendent simply posts his foreman to look out for the man, 
watch to see if he is caught again, fire him. The thing is done, 
and perhaps a dollar saved, and it is an important dollar too; 
but what does it mean if, by not diverting the superintendent’s 
attention to the incident, he is enabled to perfect an ingenious 
plan of action that reduces the percentage of labor on the 
whole operation, thus saving thousands of dollars? Owners 
sometimes dwell on the loafing laborer without sensing the 
main problems, which can only be solved out of the builder’s 
intimate knowledge of the work and his long experience with 
similar problems. | 
Architects and builders sometimes have great difficulty in 
obtaining decisions from owners, one of the most fruitful 
causes of delay and increased expense. What architect and 
builder does not recall the agonizing postponement of decision 
from Wednesday to Monday, and then to Wednesday again? 
“Wait for the directors to meet. [ll put it up to them.” . . . 
“Couldn’t get the board together; matter has gone over until 
next week’s meeting.”’ These and similar causes of postpone- 
ment are familiar phrases to almost any builder and architect 
who has had to do with large buildings. It is not that owners 


Ce ee 


Te ee a ae 


a ee 


FINDING OUT THE COST 319 


who do these things lack business sense or enterprise. It is be- 
cause they are busy and because they fail to understand the 
complexity of the problems that modern building on a large 
scale presents. 

It is for this reason that the real success of a large building 
enterprise rests on the absolute co-operation of the owner, 
builder and architect. This skyscraper building is wearing 
business and experts who understand it and are charged with 
the responsibility for it must be given leadership and listened 
to seriously, if the best results are to be obtained. 

In the public mind, estimating is always connected with 
building, and the layman thinks of the builder as essentially 
an accurate estimator. Also he is apt to think of the best 
builder as the one who can make the lowest estimate, and not 
a few builders lay claim to superiority by alleging that they 
can “figure closer’? than any one else. The fallacies here in- 
volved are at the root of many of the ills that beset the 
building business, and the misconception on the part of the 
layman accounts for about all the troubles he encounters 
when he comes to build. Things cost what they cost, and not 
what some importunate optimist hopes he can make them cost 
by blinking the facts of his problem. 

When it comes to estimating, the well-organized builder is 
likely to suffer in the eyes of his prospective client because he 
insists on weighing all of the elements and contingencies of 
a given problem, and then putting a price mark on each ele- 
ment. Hopeful owners do not always like this and are apt to 
take refuge from the cold fact by citing what Smith or Jones 
did a few years ago. Occasionally it is possible for the builder 
to produce the facts surrounding the cases cited and show very 
conclusively that conditions were different and the problems 
unlike. The chances are that Smith did one thing, Jones an- 
other, and the objective of the doubting client is different from 
either; yet he thinks of it in terms of something he has heard 


320 SKYSCRAPERS 


of or seen, and his architect’s drawings, an unaccustomed 
medium of expression, make less of an impression than does 
his hopeful memory. 

To return to estimating, the quantity survey of all of the 
elements entering into a given operation is something of a 
science, but the rub comes in pricing the labor element. It has 
been observed elsewhere that no building operation is exactly 
like another. Every building is specially designed and, in a 
way, a specially constructed operation. This may not be literally 
true of mill and factory construction, where one unit succeeds 
another in accordance with a predetermined plan, but the 
statement is true of large metropolitan buildings. Therefore, 
not only is the productive effort of labor under conditions that 
may arise six months hence rather uncertain, but the special- 
ized thing that the labor is to do introduces a problematical 
element as to just how much of the task will be done per hour. 

One of the popular misconceptions is that buildings may be 
estimated at so much per cubic foot. In the hands of an expert 
who understands all of the elements of his problem, it may be 
a reasonably accurate method; but in the hands of a layman, 
it simply becomes a convenient refuge to which he clings with 
desperate tenacity, like a man marooned on a rock in the 
midst of an uncharted sea. The use of the cubic foot price by 
a builder is analogous to the use of a clinical thermometer by 
a physician. It is the first step in diagnosis, yet no physician 
diagnoses solely from the thermometer reading. The physician 
judges as well by the appearance of the patient, his general 
health, and a hundred and one other observations known to 
his science. If a clinical thermometer diagnosis were the sure 
and infallible means to good health, how simple life would 
be! Similarly, in cubic foot pricing, were it at all an accurate 
guide, how many of the ills that beset the building industry 
would be eliminated—auntold thousands of dollars now spent 
in careful quantity survey and price study could be saved. 


FINDING OUT THE COST 321 


Even when the cubic foot unit is used—and it has taken 
such hold on the popular imagination that it is doubtful 
whether it can ever be eliminated—about the first problem 
to be met is how to arrive at the number of cubic feet. It is a 
simple matter when we are measuring a box, but it is a very 
different matter when a structure of irregular form is con- 
sidered, and particularly where the foundations are of an un- 
usual design. The best rule, and one generally accepted among 
builders, is to compute the cubic foot contents of a building 
by an arbitrary line drawn beneath the footings and above any 
special foundation construction. Where special foundation 
conditions are to be met, they must be considered as an ele- 
ment of cost apart from any generalization as to cube. From 
this point up, the extreme dimensions of the structure are con- 
sidered, and when setbacks occur or courts materially reduce 
the cubic contents, they are, of course, deducted. When it 
comes to irregular, sloping roofs, an average well above the 
exact pyramidal content must be taken to account for the 
added cost that such roof construction involves. Here again, 
experience must be the guide. There is one celebrated case 
where the total cost of the building was based upon its cubic 
content. In the dispute that arose over the final settlement, the 
question of how to figure cubage became paramount. The 
owners, contending for the lowest possible cost, argued that 
the cubic content of the building was properly the amount 
that it would displace if it were immersed in water. In their 
pursuit of this theory, they actually measured all of the de- 
pressions of the window reveals, all of the voids behind para- 
pet walls, and finally went so far as to take the diminishing 
volume of the stepped foundations under the columns and up 
to the underside of the basement floor. 

However, even if a cubic foot price is agreed upon and a 
contract based upon it, there still remains the necessity for the 
builder to make an accurate, detailed quantity survey of the 


$22 SKYSCRAPERS 


operation and an estimate of the material and labor costs. To 
the inexperienced, this detailed estimating may seem like an 
interminable job, and it is to be said that there is no royal road 
to it. With hard, painstaking application on the part of esti- 
mators, every square inch of the blueprints is examined, and 
every line of the specifications read and compared with the 
drawings. Here individualities of construction and finish crop 
up—little idiosyncracies of the architect, and the big ones too 
—and here the special forms of construction and finish and 
the special material come to the estimator’s attention, and he 
must make note of them and assess a money value against 
every item. Thus a quantity survey is made of every element 
of the building from foundation to flag pole. | 

_Now, in this great complexity, there will be from thirty to 
fifty lines of work that the builder does not do himself. Steel 
fabrication, elevators, heating and ventilating, plumbing, elec- 
trical work, marble and tile, steel trim, and so on almost in- 
definitely. The task would be well-nigh hopeless were it not 
for the sub-contractors. The builder has a list of sub-contractors 
that he knows to be reliable, and it is probable that the archi- 
tect expresses a wish that on certain lines of work he wants 
certain sub-contractors that he knows to bid. Cards are sent 
broadcast through the trades on these lists who are known to 
supply the various items. The recipients are invited to call at 
the builder’s office, see the plans and submit tenders for their 
specialties. The builder is organized to give them access to the 
plans in which they are interested—generally a large room is 
set apart with plan tables aplenty and reasonable facilities by 
which the sub-contractors may obtain information. If the 
builder be one of a number of general. contractors invited to 
submit proposals in accordance with plans and specifications, 
a day and hour is set by the architect when the general bids 
will be opened. The builder, in turn, sets a day or two in ad- 
vance of his own date for the receipt of sub-bids, so that he 


FINDING OUT THE COST 323 


may have opportunity to compare these and make his own 
selection of low figures. 

In the process just described, the builder will have secured 
and paid for from fifteen to twenty sets of blueprints, because 
many of his sub-contractors must do their estimating in their 
own offices, and moreover, the large number of bidders can- 
not be accommodated in the builder’s office in the time al- 
lotted for preparation of the estimate, which generally takes 
from two to three weeks. 

The work the builder will do himself, such as foundations, 
masonry, carpentry, etc., he is having his own estimators 
take off while this estimating by sub-contractors is going on, 
and on the appointed day, with all of the elements of cost 
fully before him, he tabulates, compares, checks; and the grand 
total of all the low sub-bids, his own work, his estimated job 
expense, added together make what the builder is pleased to 
call his estimated cost. 

To the layman, this procedure may look like the most logi- 
cal and rational that could possibly be devised—an exact 
science, he might say. But it is not. It is in fact the most hap- 
hazard, wasteful, inexact and uneconomical method that 
could be devised, when the practical working out of the pro- 
cedure is considered. 

In the first place, the builder could not possibly compile 
his bid without the vast amount of work that is being done by 
the two or three hundred sub-contractors to whom the invi- 
tation to submit sub-proposals has been sent. And in these sub- 
concerns, the uncertainties of field labor costs, or indeed, manu- 
facturing costs, are the same that beset the builder himself in 
pricing up his own work. We have seen that all manner of spe- 
cial work is called for, all manner of new designs and special 
finishes. Each sub-bidder approximates what he thinks his pro- 
duction cost will be for these unprecedented specialties. They 
all have rules of approximation of their own making, out of 


324 SKYSCRAPERS 


their varied experience, but to be able to foretell the exact cost, 
let me repeat, is impossible. Now when the sub-contractor sub- 
mits his bid, the builder at least has a fixed price for some ele- 
ment of the building, and to that extent he is in a position to 
unload on the sub-contractor the hazard of cost variation on 
that particular item. Fifty sub-lines, comprising eighty per cent 
of the total cost, are by this process underwritten by the sub- 
contracting industry generally. The twenty per cent that the 
builder underwrites again is in part underwritten by vendors 


of the commodity materials entering into his own work— — 


brick, crushed stone, sand, hollow tile, and like building ma- 
terials. 

Logic seems still to follow, but now again we are confronted 
with practice that holds little in common with theory. The 
builder, knowing that all of his sub-bidders are dealing largely 
in uncertainties of production cost, commences to look the 
field over for himself. He knows perfectly well that, by adding 
up the low bids and including his own work and job expense, 
he will produce the highest bid, not the lowest. For his com- 
petitors will do what he perforce must do—go down along the 
line arbitrarily cutting every low sub-bid he receives anywhere 
from five to twenty per cent. In other words, he anticipates 
that, in closing, he will be able to use the leverage of competi- 
tion in each sub-line to break down the prices of his sub-bid- 
ders. Each sub-bidder is nervous lest he be not low, and when 
he is told by the successful general bidder that there are prices 
lower than his out for the particular part of the work on which 
he is bidding, the sub-bidder, uninformed, is talking to the only 
really informed figure in the whole transaction. One might 
think that a sense of honor would impel the general bidder to 
disclose to the sub-bidder that he has fairly won his job; but if 
that were done by the general bidder, he would go bankrupt, 
for he has, by his general bid, sold short on every low sub-bid 


he has received. 


a a es en ae are Sar 


FINDING OUT THE COST 325 


Thus we have a picture of the pernicious custom that has 
grown up in the vicious circle of competitive bidding, a cus- 
tom that has projected itself into the complexity of modern 
building from days when vendors of the simple parts of simple 
buildings sold their supplies to the owner or his representative. 
Is it any wonder that competent builders will not take part in 
this ruinous and vicious farce? Is it any wonder that the bank- 
ruptcies among builders are fifty per cent of all who engage in 
it over periods of five years? 

The description of this system, or lack of system, might lead 
the reader to a deep sympathy for the sub-contractor were it not 
for the fact that the canny sub-contractor knows just how the 
bidding is going to be run off. He knows that if Smith gets the 
job, no mercy will be shown, and he bids with caution and 
reservation to Smith. If Jones gets the work, it will be handled 
so skilfully that the sub-contractor can afford to lop off five to 
ten per cent, because Jones, in addition, has good credit. If 
Brown gets it, the sub-contractor knows that storm signals will 
go up all along the line. But in the bidding, nobody knows 
which of the general bidders will take the longest chances in sell- 
ing short, so the sub-contractors all mark their prices up five to 
fifteen per cent, put in their bids to all the general bidders alike 
and await developments. In this free-for-all, the element of un- 
certainty of actual cost has been worse confounded by the wary 
bidding of the sub-bidders. It is not unlikely that the architect, 
keeping open the door to the possibility of himself acting for 
the owner as a sort of general contractor, will gather in all the 
sub-bids that he can corral. In this his position is dominant, for 
only he can modify the plans and specifications, and he gen- 
erally stands ready to do this to justify his own estimating put 
forth when he was interesting the owner in architectural ser- 
VICES. 

The government must of necessity abide by the system, and 
the result is that an army of camp followers has grown up 


326 SKYSCRAPERS 


around government work that stands it in sorry stead when 
really fine things are to be done. There is no escape for the 
government, because governments, from time beyond recollec- 
tion, have been obliged to substitute rules of action for judg- 
ment and discretion. It is a rule of government that it is better 
to squander money on wasteful exactitude than permit dis- 
cretionary economy. So we have the spectacle of government 
buildings delayed years in the preparation of plans to the mi- 
nutest detail and specifications in endless reams of technical 
and inelastic language. Finally, we see government work 
started years after it is needed, from plans that are obsolete 
before the project can be built—ponderous granite exteriors 
that consume space, interiors equally ponderous in overdone 
marbles and wasteful of arrangement, the net product of the 
system by which the work must be produced. Compare the 
average, “‘stately” government building, national, state or mu- 
nicipal, with the up-to-date, efficient office buildings, that al- 
most always surround them; the stodgy inferiority of the for- 
mer fairly shrieking from the deadly comparison that the effi- 
cient, privately-owned buildings afford. Consider that the 
product comes about largely from the traditional system of 
competitive bidding! 

Scientific modern estimating in the hands of a capable 


builder goes beyond the system just described and takes into’ 


account certain elements that the competitive system could 
not possibly have considered. Also, it abhors the fixed, finished 
plans, and ironclad specifications, for when these have been 
made, there is little chance for modern estimating. The better 
way, the estimating of economies coincidentally with the esti- 


mating of costs, takes into consideration the market before con- — 


ditions are fixed. It must be predicated on the builder’s being 
in the owner’s confidence, and co-equal with the architect in 
the decisions of the owner. Here the builder’s experience is 
taken into account and he is consulted. First of all, he must be 


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FINDING OUT THE COST 327 


apprised of that most profound of secrets, the amount the 
owner expects or desires to spend for his project. In conference 
with the architect, and furnishing authentic information as to 
the approximate prices and values involved, the builder is soon 
enabled to prepare an intelligent budget of probable cost. 
Every item is considered, and the best and most economical 
elements in every case having been selected, the architect is 
informed by the budget and by frequent conference between 
all three principals to this highly important relationship, the 
cost limitations of all of the elements he is incorporating. 
Now, with the budget estimate established, the builder com- 
mences buying on account of the owner. One line at a time is 
considered and the best sub-contractors in that line are invited 
in; the plans and specifications are discussed in detail, the 
owner and architect are parties to the conferences and com- 
mence to learn the sub-contractors’ estimated cost of doing the 
thing the way it is specified, and also of doing it the way the 
sub-contractor is used to doing it. Here the surprises begin to 
appear. Under any particular sub-contractor’s method, exactly 
the same result can be obtained for less expense—perhaps even 
a better result. At once, all three concerned in the owner’s 
problem see not only the cost of specialization, but the econo- 
my of standardization. Now the owner can decide intelligently 
just which he would rather have, and he learns the cost of re- 
finements and even of caprices. Only sub-contractors of stand- 
ing ability may be entrusted with such relationships. They, in 
fact, become temporarily consultants, but the system brings 
the inestimable advantage of knowledge of the market to the 
decision at the time it is made. On the basis of such informa- 
tion, the closing is made, and the sub-contractor is apt to have 
contributed an economy, at the same time negotiating a basis 
of performance of his work that he knows will insure him a 
reasonable profit at least. The budget estimate has been satis- 
fied and safeguarded, and the saving effected here is available 


328 SKYSCRAPERS 


as a saving on the total cost or to strengthen some other part of 
the budget where embellishment perhaps is most desirable. 

So it goes. It is not necessary to trace this logical and scien- 
tific budgeting and estimating through all of its details. Six 
weeks spent in intensive conferences between architect, builder 
and owner in attention to this truly scientific and sensible pro- 
cedure will produce all of the economies possible or warranta- 
ble in a large metropolitan building operation. It has been said 
elsewhere that the method is not as spectacular as an open, 
public bidding on an appointed day, but the rewards are rich, 
not only in producing understanding on the part of all con- 
cerned, but also in producing all of the economies that are 
possible and all that may legitimately be expected. It is here 
that the truism that buildings cost what they cost is conclu- 
sively proven, and it is here that the lowest possible costs are 


produced. 


CAPT ER 3XV 
JOB ORGANIZATION AND DISCIPLINE 


Jos supervision has heretofore been referred to as the ac- 
tivity of the superintendent in marshalling the lines of work 
into lock-step and, through generalship and planning, bring- 
ing the operation to a successful conclusion. Job discipline has 
been presented in terms of the marshalling of sub-contractors 
to their several tasks and so managing the intricacies of the 
work that all of the parts will come together and the building 
will be the complete and adequate thing that the owner in- 
tended it to be. To accomplish all of this there is an internal 
mechanism known as the job organization, without which 
there could be little better than chaos as the work proceeds. 

The job organization of a large, modern skyscraper opera- 
tion is a piece of team work for which the builder is responsi- 
ble, and the measure of a builder’s ability may be judged from 
the skill and efficiency with which that team operates. We sce 
endless truck-loads of material being delivered at all parts of 
the work, and perhaps wonder what possible system could ac- 
curately account for it all in the seemingly distracting confu- 
sion that accompanies all trucking in busy city streets. We see 
high-priced mechanics and workmen of all sorts swarming 
over the work, and hear of the careful watching of every hour 
of time, and we wonder as to just what degree of accuracy ac- 
companies this high-priced labor turnover. 

In the first place, it must be remembered that sub-contrac- 
tors account for a considerable number of men on the job, and 
the time and material accountability for all that they do is a 
function of the sub-contractor solely. He may have any of a 

329 


330 SKYSCRAPERS 


number of systems, according to his general business, or the 
line of work he is performing. As far as the general contractor 
is concerned, he takes little account of these sub-contractors’ 
men so long as they observe the general rules of discipline; he 
is of course concerned with the questions of safety and non- 
interference with other trades. It not infrequently happens 
that sub-contractors perform some part of their work, such as 
extra work done by overtime, changes involving ripping out 
existing work, etc., in which case, the time and material in- 
volved become very much the concern of the builder. When 
this occurs, the builder’s timekeepers and material clerks are 
charged with the checking and approval, and such supervision 
then has to be handled as though it were practically a direct 
responsibility of the builder. Sometimes the extent of this type 
of sub-let work is such as to require the undivided time of one 
or more inspectors and checkers from the builder’s organiza- 
tion. The sub-contractors keep the time of their own men, 
pay them off, attend to supplying their materials and facilities, 
and the job superintendent simply looks for results. He re- 
quires that sub-contractors keep the requisite number of men 
on the work and at times dictates the working of overtime; 
but with all of these elements satisfied, his accountability ends. 
' Quite different is the attitude toward the builder’s own men 
and materials. On a large job, there is a principal timekeeper 
and his assistants; also there is a principal material clerk and 
his assistants. All materials have been bought under stipulated 
conditions of delivery, and copies of the contracts covering 
these purchases are on file at the job. Then there are foremen, 
the direct lieutenants of the superintendent. There is also gen- 
erally an assistant superintendent, and the all-important, if 
inadequately named, job runner, who acts in liaison between 
the main office, the architect and the sub-contractors. 

When the job opens up, a foreman is furnished with blank 
“Hire” and “Discharge’’ slips. Let us say a few bricklayers 


JOB ORGANIZATION AND DISCIPLINE 331 


and a few laborers are employed. The foreman of each group 
indicates this employment on a slip, signs it and hands it to 
the employee, who is instructed to present it at the timekeeper’s 
window with the hour of employment noted. The timekeeper 
has a board of numbered brass checks, and upon presentation 
of the “Hire” slip, notes the name on the slip and in his time 
book, which is especially made with duplicating sheets, as- 
signs a number which is represented by the brass check which 
he hands the new employee. The man is now on the payroll 
and reports to the foreman, and his work commences. This 
employment is generally done before the beginning of the 
day’s work. The whistle blows, the timekeeper notes the checks 
that he has given out, and shortly thereafter goes out on the 
job, time book in hand, and commences checking the men 
against the numbers, again accurately noting the names. 
Working gangs having been built up, and the job in full 
swing, the process becomes complicated, but nevertheless must 
be under complete control. Now every morning the time- 
keeper is at his window a half hour or more before starting 
time. The men file past in procession calling for their brass 
checks, the timekeeper scrutinizing each man to assure him- 
self that the name and number correspond. When the whistle 
blows for starting, the time window is closed. As before, the 
timekeeper checks his board, noting the brass checks taken, 
also those not taken, which indicate the absentees. This done, 
he is out on the work again, checking up to see that the men 
who took checks have gone to their appointed places. A single 
timekeeper, if he is capable, can in this manner take care of 
from one hundred and fifty to two hundred men, know them 
all by sight, get over the job checking the men at least twice 
a day, and almost instinctively spot absentees without looking 
at his board. We have spoken of a head timekeeper, for when 
these big jobs get under way, there are at times as many as five 
hundred to a thousand men on the builder’s payrolls, and in 


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Pages 


— 


$32 SKYSCRAPERS 


this case a number of timekeepers are required. Each has a 
separate window and is accountable for the records of atten- 
dance of an assigned number of men. 

But the timekeeper has a further function. His especially 
constructed time book is so arranged that, as he checks the 
men at attendance, he also notes what they are doing, for it is 
important to the builder to keep accurate payroll costs, to be 
checked against the unit costs of the working estimate. To ac- 
complish this, the builder has designated in a set of printed 
rules a system of numeric symbols which the timekeeper must 
learn and know. Thus, he comes upon a group of men work- 
ing on concrete footings, and his attendance mark on that part 
of the day is C.1, meaning concrete footings. As he comes to 
a gang, let us say, laying common brick, they and their help- 
ers, even to the mortar machine tenders in the basement, are 
noted by the M.1 check mark. Now as the payrolls are made 
up, these charges are picked out in columns and the totals 
show the labor costs in each of the subdivisions of the work. 
These go to the cost clerks who, with similar information as 
to the material used, make up the cost accounting for the work 
for the week. 

The material received on the job is checked by material 
clerks and no bill for material is honored unless accompanied 
by the receipt that these checkers give. The material men, like 
the timekeepers, are under supervision, and in spite of the 
seeming confusion, there is a receipt given for every load, 
whether it be sand, cement, stone, lumber or any other thing 
entering into the building. These material men watch for the 
sufficiency of loads of commodity material, such as sand, and 
are directed to note shortages in the receipts given. 

Every week the amount of work accomplished is measured 
and reported on a regular form to the general superintendent. 
The builder’s cost clerks check these reports against the ma- 
terial receipts, for the material weekly reports give the amount 


i a | ee 


JOB ORGANIZATION AND DISCIPLINE 338 


of material on hand as well as the amount used. The watching 
of these activities and the accountability thereunder demand 
constant supervision from the main office direct, without pass- 
ing through the job superintendent, who is busily concerned 
with progress and planning. Therefore, the treasurer of the 
builder supervises the accountability direct, and employs the 
timekeepers and material clerks. These are carefully looked 
up before they are employed; they are also bonded. 

The timekeeper each week sends in his payroll sheets made 
up to Thursday night for the Saturday payroll. Some of the 
unions demand pay up to quitting time, and therefore atten- 
dance has to be anticipated, involving another review of the 
payroll at the time it is delivered to the job on Saturday morn- 
ing. The payroll sheets sent to the treasurer’s department must 
be signed by the superintendent and accompanied by a state- 
ment of the petty cash on hand at the job. A certain amount 
of cash is kept on the job to pay off the men who are dis- 
charged, for on a large operation there is always a flow of men 
coming and going, and the discharge slips, properly signed by 
the foreman and attached to the receipt received from a dis- 
charged employee, accurately account for this cash. 

The builder’s treasurer has his own checker and inspectors. 
These move from job to job, drop in on any timekeeper or 
material clerk, take over and check up on his records as he 
finds them at the hour of his unannounced coming. This 
means that these records must at all times be written up to the 
hour, just as the accounts in a bank must be at all times. Vigi- 
lance controls, and all through the accountability and check- _ 
ing are never allowed to grow lax. It is for this reason that we 
see on the bridge surrounding the building, or later, in the 
building, these well built, well lighted and well heated tem- 
porary offices. It is a large and complicated business that is 
being transacted in these places; large sums of money are 
changing hands, and large responsibilities are involved. Only 


334 SKYSCRAPERS 


the well-organized and capable builder is equipped to handle 
it properly, and one of his principal functions is to have a go- 
ing organization of men who know the builder’s methods and 
systems, men who are trained together as a team. 


CHAPTER XXVI 
PROBEEMS OF THE FUTURE 


Tue swift development of the skyscraper and the science of 
modern construction might be said to differ but little from the 
equally astounding transition that has taken place in all forms 
of industry. Modern ingenuity, having visioned the possibili- 
ties of vast mechanical accomplishment, is whirling us on to- 
ward an inscrutable destiny, and no man can even commence 
to predict its ultimate goal. All we can say is that the whole 
effort is toward making human life easier and happier, free- 
ing it from exhausting and inefficient toil, and giving to every 
one a better balance between leisure and useful occupation. 
Building, even in its most scientific development, holds to its 
ancient and traditional course more than does almost any 
other of the human activities that look to a better and more com- 
fortable world. Destiny beckons us to a future that we feel is to 
be ever brighter. 

In transportation, for example, we have always been ready 
to abandon the old forms entirely and, without even a back- 
ward look, we take to the new, rejoicing. Communication 1s 
ever seeking newer and better media, always tolerantly impa- 
tient with its latest development. In foods, we accept the end- 
less varieties, and an ever improving knowledge of dietetics 
may eventually lead us entirely away from an unscientific past. 

We have always been ready to abandon with complacency 
the older forms when some newer form helps annihilate time 
and space. But in human habitation the requirement and the 
goal of our ideal has remained rather constant through the 
ages. Rooms have always been rooms and, as a matter Obie 
the ideal of their size has changed but little. Shelter from the 

335 


336 SKYSCRAPERS 


elements almost entirely fulfilled the earliest human require- 
ment, and that same shelter, with the modern additions of 
window glass, controlled heat and night illumination, has al- 
most completely satisfied us with the space in which we dwell. 
True, sanitation and its corollary, abundant fresh water, with 
the incidental ability to choose its temperature at will, are 
somewhat modern accomplishments so far as the masses are 
concerned; yet even all of these things were early perceived by 
humanity as the ultimate of its desires, and these desires have 
not changed excepting in the measure of refinement and the 
ease with which they are achieved. 

What man has done in his building has been to travel in a 
great circle of evolutionary detail from the communal cave or 
hut out to the separated family abode, then to the further re- 
finement of the multi-chambered domicile. Then, with the 
advent of our mechanical age, the tendency has been a re- 
turn toward communal living, not as a measure of self-pres- 
ervation such as prompted the earliest communal life, but now 
as a matter of mutual self-benefit in the attainment of the com- 
forts, conveniences and indeed the luxuries of life that modern 
urban existence offers in such abundance. Hence our cities; 
hence our congestion, for convenience of proximity to the 
sources and origins of these comforts becomes as important as 
the existence of the comforts themselves. We have seen the 
swiftness of acceptance of multi-storied structures as soon as 
the means of producing them were invented. We have seen 
the enormous wealth their invention and the consequent re- 
quirements created. But the basic requirement has remained 
the same: safe, comfortable, adequate, sanitary and hygienic 
habitation of about the same dimensions as originally con- 
ceived, and certainly about the same objective of conveniences 
to which primitive man first aspired. 

Such retrospection, while it can do little in supplying a clue 
to our final destiny, can at least be used in considering our ulti- 


PROBLEMS OF THE FUTURE 337 


mate form of structure. We can conceive of no situation that 
will remove our desire for rooms, well heated, lighted and 
with sanitary and hygienic conveniences. It is certain that in 
the cities at least, the grouping of rooms into a single structure 
has a fixity from which all conjecture must proceed. The de- 
monstrated advantages of common sources of heat, light and 
water, the common use of thoroughfares, and the universal ac- 
cess to common media of communication indicate that these 
will ever be extended, but only to serve the basic requirement 
of human convenience as it remains intrenched in its sheltered 
and conveniently equipped rooms. 

All of these things point in the same direction so far as con- 
struction is concerned—ever larger and more efficient struc- 
tures, with conveniences that will always continue to develop 
and refine. Good thoroughfare arrangement, with due regard 
to ease of swift movement from place to place, goes hand in 
hand with increasing construction. Like our rooms, our city 
blocks have not greatly changed from time immemorial. True, 
avenues have widened and straightened, easier circulation has 
been forced upon us, sometimes reluctantly, but nothing has 
arisen greatly to change the average requirement, and the city 
block may be regarded as about fixed. Certain it is that the 
metropolitan tendency is toward the construction of buildings. 
- occupying whole city blocks; already we have many of this 
kind throughout the land, and the movement is well estab- 
lished as the next great economic phase of construction. The 
demonstrated economies and conveniences of this latest de- 
velopment herald the advent of the city of single city-block 
structures. 

This leaves only the moot question of height and height 
limitation to be considered. Limitation of height of metropoli- 
tan structures has never been a more acute question than it is 
to-day. When the first skyscrapers were built their critics de- 
nounced them as structurally unsafe, and dismissed them as 


338 SKYSCRAPERS 


capricious, temporary freaks that would soon fall down and 
thus seal their own doom. When this prophecy was unful- 
filled, and one skyscraper commenced to shoulder another 
along our busy thoroughfares, the hue and cry against them as 
destroyers of air and light was raised, and to some purpose. 
Before anything could be done about it, however, some of our 
most cherished avenues of travel almost overnight became 
yawning chasms into which the sunlight never penetrated. 
The law, with leaden steps, slowly focussed its attention upon 
this condition, and we commenced to get our height limita- 
tion and zoning laws. Hardly had this been accomplished 
when the problem of traffic congestion became the most acute 
aspect of metropolitan existence, and to-day that staggering 
perplexity of city life overshadows every other problem in im- 
portance. It almost threatens the very existence of the con- 
venient if complex living that our city so ideally serves in all 
other respects. 

It is futile to point the finger of accusation toward any one 
phase of city life and condemn that phase in particular as re- 
sponsible. The responsibility is 1tselira great complexity to 
which many activities of metropolitan existence contribute. 
All that may be said is that over-tall buildings contribute some 
indefinite and undefinable share to the problem, and to some 
extent height limitation is not only justifiable but necessary. 
It is a fair guess that the great metropolitan problem of the fu- 
ture will centre around height limitation considered in the light 
of street arrangement and the solution of the traffic problem. 
Dreamers have vexed the question by injecting the possibilities 
of aviation into it, and already the fantasy of the skyscraper 
landing roof is portrayed in our Sunday supplements. The 
imagined fulfilment of these dreams contributes nothing to 
the solution of the question, for these fantasies simply add an- 
other aspect to it. 

As an escape, some theorists are actually visioning an aban- 


a 


PROBLEMS OF THE FUTURE 339 


_ donment of the great cities that the skyscraper has made, and 
the construction of new centres, with Utopian arrangements 
that seem perfectly to meet the requirements of our many 
methods of swift communication. Perhaps even these wild 
conjectures may be realized in some now unthinkable way; 
but if they are, if new and wholly different cities are built, if 
new and wholly undreamed-of means of transportation and 
communication are devised, if wholly different building ma- 
terials are invented, and refinements of convenience developed 
beyond our wildest conjectures, yet the basic human require- 
ment will be the same. Until human nature, and even human 
existence itself, is changed, that basic requirement will be shel- 
ter, light, heat, sanitation, and swift transportation and com- 
munication; and architects, engineers and builders will be in 
demand to study and solve these problems. Truly, building 
construction is the most fundamental requirement of human 
progress. 


x 


INDEX 


Agitator, the, in tube foundations, 149, 
150 

Agriculture, economically disorganized, 
112 

Air rights, 106-108 

Alabama, marble in, 270 

Algiers, mosques of, 278 

Alhambra, the, 278 

America, a nation of builders, 1-3, 75; 
skyscrapers distinctly of, 74; marble 
found in, 270, 271 

American Concrete Institute, The, 253 

American Institute of Architects, form of 
contract endorsed by, 316 

Anchoring, 177 

Ansonia Hotel (N. Y.), 41 

Appalachian Mountains, granite from, 


I 

el ee trades, 305 ff.; the Com- 
mission, 308-311 

Arches, brick, 22; floor, 239 ff.; Guas- 
tavino, 241 ff., 279; concrete, 244 

Architects, pioneer, 33, 34; functions of, 
76, 78, 313; recommending of build- 
ers by, 315, 316; problems of, 317 ff. 

Architectural Forum, quotation from, 
90, QI 

Architecture, skyscrapers develop new 
style, 3, 45 ff.; colonial, 12; classical 
renaissance in, 16; prominence of, in 
World’s Fair, 46 ff.; nouveau art of 
European, 51, 52; Japanese, 52, 53, 
55, 57; importance of design, 95-99; 
ornamentation of, 97, 98; Early Pull- 
man Car, 99; setback, 101, 102; 
three divisions of, 313, 314 

Arrangement, art of good, 61, 62 

Art, ceramic, 42, 224 ff., 244; nouveau, 
2 

Rodis, Joseph, 245 

Associated General Contractors of Amer- 
cay 113 

Atlanta-Biltmore Hotel, 37 

Atlantic Cable, opening of, 49 


_ Bacon, Henry, 211 


Baguio, I1 


Banks, building of, 95, 97 

Barré, (Vt.), granite quarries at, 196 

Basements, water-prooting, 154 ff.; after 
completion, 181 

Baumann, Frederick, 24 

Beams, 172; cast-iron, 20; wrought-iron, 
20, 21; first American rolled, 20, 21; 
Bessemer’ steel o27e ly 27, 629, 2170, 
171; coped, .173 

Bedford (Indiana), limestone quarries 
in, 199; cutting-shed at, 205 

Bessemer, 36 

Bethlehem Steel Company, 162, 172 

Bethlehem’s Steelton Plant, 169 - 

Bidding, competitive, 112 ff. 319 ff. 

Billets, 164 ff. 

Biltmore Hotel, (N. Y.), 106 

Blocks, partition, 255; gypsum, 255 

Boiler room, 281, 282 

Bond houses, 115, 116 

Bonding, brick, 214 ff. 

Booms, of derricks, 178, 180, 181, 184, 
18 

Seca height limitations in, 23; zon- 
ing law in, 102 

Boulders, encountered in foundation 
work, 151 

Braces, “‘spur,’’ 134 

Bracing, 128 ff. 

Brick, a competitor of stone, 213; 
burned, 213, 216; bonds of, 214 ff.; 
color variations, 216, 219;° face, 218, 
219, 222; common, 218, 220; row- 
locks, 218; soldier, 218; variety of tex- 
ture, 218 ff.;pressed, 219; ‘‘tapestry,”’ 
220; salmon and clinker, 220; process 
of manufacture, 220 ff.; laying of, 
222, 224 

Bricklayers, terra-cotta set by, 235; quar- 
rel between plasterers and, 291; ap- 
prentices in, 310 

Bridge building, 18, 20, 38; contribu- 
tion of, to skyscrapers, 41, 42 

Bridge shops, 161, 171 ff 

Bronze, 237 

Bufhington, L. S., 27, 28 

Builders, the functions of, 66, 76, 81, 


342 INDEX 


94; speculative, 109 ff.; professional 
distinguished from speculative, 114; 
problems of, 317 ff. 

Builders Building (Chicago) 31 

Building, prominence of, in World’s 
Fair, 46; since World War, 54 ff.; 
compared with warfare, 63 ff.; organ- 
ization, 66 ff.; spectacular work of, 
70, 72; planning for, 76 ff.; organized 
forethought for, 78, 80; economies 
and profits of, 89 ff., 96; costs of, gi, 
92, 312 ff.; three major divisions to, 
93, 94; relation of geology to, 190 ff.; 
speculative, 109 ff.; economically dis- 
organized, 112; problems of, 286 ff.; 
specialization in, 306; future of, 335 ff. 

Building Trades Association, 84 

Buildings, first fire-proof, 20 ff.; skele- 
ton steel, 27, 28; settling of, 29; ob- 
solescence of, 51, 60, 61; specialized, 
60; demolition of, 124 ff.; attempts to 
use old frames for new, 125-127; in- 
teriors of, 238 ff.; government, 325, 
326 

Buaner, LH. G., 47 

Burnham, Daniel H., 7, 46; biographi- 
cal sketch of, 4, 6; architectural ac- 
complishments of, 10, II 

Burnham & Root, 10, 25, 28, 32 


Caissons, pneumatic, 25, 32, 131, 138; 
principle of, 136; the open, 142 ff 

Calcination, 250, 258 

Cambridge, fan vaultings in, 208 

Campanile of Venice, 26 

Canterbury, cathedral, 208 

Capitol (Washington), 12, 209 

Carnegie-Phipps Steel Co., 27 

Carter, Drake & Wight, 6 

Cassatt, Alexander, 11 

Cathedral of St. John the Divine, 225 

Ceilings, 263 ff. groined, 242; mosaic, 
273 

Cement, packing, 248; testing, 248; 
crystallizing tendency of, 250, 251; 
quick setting, 253; puzalon, 272; 
Keene’s, 275; wood replaced by, 306 

Cement, Portland, 18, 35, 36, 164, 244; 
limestone discolored by, 202; process 
of manufacture, 245 ff.; origin of 
name, 245 

Centennial Exposition, 13 ff., 

Central Savings Bank (Onna 30% 

Centralization, 105 

Chaldeans, the, 213 

Channels, 171, 


h 

Chicago, skyscraper first conceived and 
demonstrated in, 4, 9, 35; foundation 
problems in, 24; double deck streets 
in, 31; airplane view of, 103; air rights 
in, 108; settling of buildings in, 140; 
soil formation of, 142; open caissons 
used in, 142 ff. 

Chicago World’s Fair, 11 

Christie, Ward P., quoted, 87, 88, 93 

Cities, centralization in, 105 

Clay, terra-cotta, 227, 228; mining of, 
229 

Clerks, material, 330-333; cost, 332 

Cleveland, 11; Union Terminal in, 108; 
trade courses in schools of, 311 

Clinker, cement, 247, 248 

Cologne, Cathedral at, 236 

Colossus of Rhodes, 26 

Columns, iron, 14; hollow, 22; H, 42; 
rolled, 172 

Commodore Hotel (N. Y.), 106 

Communication, 335 

Concord, granite quarry at, 195 

Concrete, reinforced, 244; explained, 18; 
a contender with steel, 35, 50; de- 
velopment of, 36, 49, 50; foreign con- 
tribution to development of, 51, 52 

Concrete, 250; cinder, 244; stone, 244; 
Cyclopean, 251; destructibility of, 252, 
250 

Continental Hotel (Philadelphia), 21 

Contractor, functions of, 87 

Contracts, general and divided, 87 ff., 
sub, 322 4s 

Cooper, Peter, 20 

Cooper Union, 20 

Copper, for roofing, 236 

Corbett, Harvey Wiley, 104 

Corliss, Mr., 1 

Cornices, 264, 265 

Costs, 312 ff, 

Court of Honor, World’s Fair, 17 

Craftsmanship, necessity for, 73 

Crusher, a gyratory, 243, 246 

Crystallization, of cement, 250, 251 

Curran, Henry H., 104 

Curtain, masonry, I 

Custom House (Boston), 102 


Daily News Building (Chicago), 108 

Davison-Paxon Store, 37 

Decorators, 266 

Della Robbia Room, 279 

Derricks, 178 ff.; Stiff-leg, 184-187; the 
Guy, 185; Gin Pole, 185, 186; lifting 
power, 188 


ee ee et ee ee ee en ey ee 


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P 

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= 
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“ 


INDEX 


Designing, 313 

Domes, spherical, 242 

Doors, old and new, 122, 123 
Downey, John I., 34 

Drilling, line, 196 

Du Maurier, 4 

*“Dutch Ovens,’’ 222 


Eads Bridge, the, 38 

Eidlitz, Marc, 34 

Exen, Andrew J., 7 

Ekin, Helen Martha, 8 

Electricity, 16, 42, 44, 48 

Elevators, the first, 21, 22; development 
of, 42, 49, 61; electric, 42, 43; instal- 
lation of, 283, 284 

Elverson Building (Philadelphia), 108 

Employer’s Liability Law, 298 

Engineering, civil, 18, 175; structural, 
48; birth in military activity, 54, 56; 
importance of field, 81; foundation, 
146, 147 

Engineers, functions of, 76; mechanical, 
280, 281 

England, science of stereotomy in, 208 

Equitable Life Assurance Society build- 
ing, 5; original, 22 

Equitable Trust Company Building, 
Colo}, 09 

Estimating, 319 ff.; cost of, 113, 1143 
cubic foot unit, 320, 321 

Europe, structural concrete used in, 51; 
zoning law in, IOI, 102 

Ewen, John M., 29 

Excavations, 128 ff.; rock, 77; post- 
construction, 154 ff. 


Fair Building, 34 

Federal Building (Chicago), 24 

Federal Reserve Bank Building (N. Y.), 
131 

ay percL., 307,310 

Fifth Avenue Hotel, 21 

Finish, importance of inside, 73 

Fire-proofing, hollow tile, 229 

Fleming, Robins, 4 

Floors, desirability of light construction 
for, 244; marble, 270; mosaic, 271- 
273; terrazzo, 273-275; wood re- 
placed by cement, 291, 306 

Florida, cyclone, 176, 177; quarrel be- 
tween bricklayers and plasterers in, 
291 

Foot, ceramic worker’s, 228 

Foot-blocks, 180 


343 


Footings, spread, 25, 140 

Foremen, 330, 331 

Foshay Tower (Minneapolis), 71 

Foundations, continuous, 24; spread foot- 
ings, 25; modern, 25, 26; steel-gril- 
lage, 29; method of deep, 30; haz- 
ards of, 63; problems of, 80, 81, 128 
fi. 136;> concrete, 138, 135; wood 
pile, 130 5 “Hoating;’. 140; built 
in quicksand, 146; concrete pile, 147 
fiz; ehbe, . 140,. 150.4 the. pretest, ~ 
152, 153 

France, marble quarries in, 270 

Puller, GeorgevA.,<32, 33 

Fuller Company, George A., 7, 10 

Fulton-Cedar Building Co., 111 

Furnaces, blast, 162 


Gang-saws, 205 

General Motors Building (Detroit), 39 

Geology, relation of, to building, 190 ff. 

Georgia Marble Company, ig1 

Georgia, granite quarries in, 194; mar- 
ble quarries in, 204, 270 

Girders, 173 

Government, buildings of, 325, 326 

Grand Central Terminal (N. Y.), 106, 
a4 

Granite, 191  ff.;. -cutung shed;* 193; 
quarries, 194 ff.; structural value, 
194; cracking and spawling of, 194, 
199; early use of, for tombstones, 194; 
cutting, 197, 211; buildings of, 198; 
high cost of, 198, 199; limestone 
quarrying compared to, 200; finishing 
of, 210 

Greece, marble quarries in, 270 

Griffiths, John, 34 

Grillage, steel, 30 

Grounds, 256 

Guastavino, 241 

Guilds, 310 

Guys, 180, 184, 185 

Gypsum, used in making cement, 248 


Hair, used in plaster, 260 

Hanover Bank Building (N. Y.), 198 

Harper & Brothers, 20 

Harper building, the, 20-22 

Heating, installation of, 281 

Height, accustoming oneself to, 
question of, 337, 338 

Hennebique, 51 

Hoists, 283, 284 

Holabird, Samuel B., 6 


1835 


344 


Holabird, William, 4; 
sketch of, 6 

Holabird & Roche, 32 

. Home Insurance Building (Chicago), 23, 
a7 ; 

Hudson Department Store (Detroit), 79 

Hudson River Bridge Towers, derricks 
used for, 187 


biographical 


Immigration, benefit of restricted, to la- 
bor, 296 

Imperial Palace Grounds (Tokio), 55 

Imperial Theatre (Tokio), 55 

Installation, mechanical, 280 ff. 

Insurance, compensation, 298 ff. 

Iron, cast, Capitol’s dome of, 12; in 
early skyscrapers, 13, 22; wrought and 
cast, in Centennial buildings, 20; dis- 
tinction between cast, wrought, and 
steel, 36, 40; American industry, 40; 
replaced by steel, 41; pig, 162 

Iron-setters, 183 

Italians, tile used by, 278 

Italy, marble quarries in, 270 


Jacks, hydraulic, 152 

Japan, architecture in, 52, 53, 55, 573 
wood pile foundation in, 141, 142 

Jenney, William Le Baron, 27, 28; bio- 
graphical sketch of, 4 

Jenney & Gibbs, 4 

Job-runner, the, 67 

Jointing, of stonework, 208, 209 


Kansas University, 8 

Keys, on retaining wall, 155, 156; arch, 
240, 241 

Kilns, for burning terra-cotta, 229, 230, 
232; rotary cement, 243, 247 

Kreischer, Balthaser, 24, 239, 240 


Labor, problems of, 286 ff., 294, 295; 
wages of, 293, 296; divisions of, 293, 
294, 306; death benefits for, 295; 
benefit to, of restricted immigration, 
296; hazards to, of building, 297 

Lagging, 142 

Lake dwellers, shell mounds of, 139 

Lath, metal, 255, 260 

Lathe, the turning, 203,. 206 

Lawrence (Kansas), Starrett home at, 7, 
8 


Lead, for roofing, 236 
Leaning Tower of Pisa, 26 
Le Duc, quoted, 28 

Leiter Building, the, 34 


INDEX 


Lenders, three classes of, 115 ff. 

L’Enfant, 11 

Lime, lump, 204; carbonates of, 204; 
a quarry, 249; mortar tempered with, 
251, 252; used in plastering, 257, 
258; hydrated, 261 

Limestone, an ideal building material, 
199, 202; quarries, 199 ff.; ; geological 
theories of origin, 200; compared to 
granite, 200; brickwork backing, 202; 
marble near relative of, 204 

Lincoln Memorial, 191, 195, 211 

Linoleurh, 306 

Live loads, 176 

London, traffic problem in, 104 


Machine Age, 305, 335, 336 
Machinery, at Centennial, 16, 18 
Machinery Hall, 15, 16 

Maine, rock in, 192 

Maitland’s American Slang Dictionary, 


ae}; are 
Manhattan Life Insurance Building, 3 


Manila, 11 

Marble, 191, origin of, 200, 204; quar- 
ries, 204, 206, 270; cutting of, 206; 
aristocracy of, 206; statues of, 206; 
colored, 206, 207, 269, 270; plaster- 
ing of walls behind, 262; used for 
decoration, 269 ff.; process of working 
interior, 271; used in terrazzo, 274, 
ode] 

Marie Antoinette Hotel (N. Y.), 41 

Masonic Temple, 34 

Masonry, old and new, 123, 124; rub- 
ble stone, 208 

Massachusetts State Building, 19 

Masts, 180, 184, 185 

McClintic-Marshall Co., 187 

McKim, Charles F., 16 

McKim, Mead & White, 307 

Mead, William R., 16 

Metropolitan Building (N. Y.), 50 

Michigan State Building, 19 

Mills, rolling, 18, 161 ff.; steel, 20, 
161-8. 

Modelling, 264 

Monadnock Building, 25 

Montauk Building, 25 

Moore, Charles, quoted, 48 

Moors, tile used by, 278 

Mortar, lime, for plastering, 257 

Mosaics, 
ceiling, 2 

Moulds, in steel mills, 164 

Mount Airy (N. C.), granite from, 192 


marble, 271-273; wall and 


a ee i 


INDEX 


Municipal Building (N. Y.), 108 


Napoleon, 236 

National City Bank (N. Y.), 85 

Needles, used in bracing, 133 

New England, granite from, 194 

New Hampshire, rock in, 192 

New International Encyclopedia, quo- 
tation from, 45 

New Jersey, compensation 
rates in, 298, 299 

New Jersey Telephone Building, 223 

New York, zoning law in, 101, 102; 
trafic problem, 104 ff.; compensation 
insurance rates in, 298, 299 

New York Board of Education, 308, 310 

New York Building Congress, 73, 307, 
308 

New York Central Building, 106-108, 
2 

Ree eork Central Railroad, air rights 
sold by, 106, 107; power plant of, 
107 

New York Life Insurance Building, 39, 
65, 77> 179, 237 

Ney, Marshal, quoted, 130 

Norcross, 34. 

North Western Terminal (Chicago), 244 

Norton, Charles Eliot, 48 


insurance 


Old Age, problem of laborer, 294, 295 
Organization, job, 329 ff. 
Oxford, fan vaultings at, 208 


Panelling, 267, 268 

Paramount Building (N. Y.), 69, 182 

_ Paris, trafic problem in, 104 

Park Avenue (N. Y.), office building 
over, 108 

Park Lane Apartments, the (N. Y.), 106 

Parks, Sam, 82-86 

Parthenon, Elgin marbles from the, 206 

Partitions, interior, 254 ff. 

Peck, Harry Thurston, quoted, 47 

Pennsylvania Railroad Office Building, 


34 

Philadelphia Electric Building, 102 

Pile-driving, 140 

Piling, concrete, 25, 147 ff.; steel sheet, 
26, 153, 154; Raymond concrete, 129, 
147; sheet, 132; wood, 139 ff.; pre- 
test, 152, 153 

Piping, 282 

Pits, ‘‘soaking,’’ in steel mills, 164 

Pittsburgh, iron industry in, 40 

Place, Ira A., 106 


345 


Planking, sharpened, 154 

Plasterers, quarrel between bricklayers 
and, 291 

Plastering, 256 ff.; gypsum, 258, 259; 
scratch coat, 260; ornamental, 262 ff. 

Plates, splice, 172 

Plaut Department Store, L. S., 137 

Plaza, the (Chicago), 108 

Pompei, 271 

Portland Cement Association, 253 

Prohibition, labor’s opposition to, 302, 
seo 

Pump, Olsen compression, 38 

Purdy & Henderson, 32 

Purdy, Corydon T., 36; quoted, 35 


Quantrell, 8 

Quarries, granite, 194 ff.; limestone, 199 
ff.; marble, 204, 206, 270; lime, 249 

Quicksand, 145, 146 


Rails, railroad, 20, 171 

Rand-McNally Building, 34 

Ransome, 50 

Reading Terminal (Philadelphia), 108 

Reed & Stem, 106 

Reliance Building (Chicago), 99 

Relief work, 279 

Renaissance, 25, 208, 224 

Robbia, Della, 224, 278 

Romans, marble used by, 206, 270; 
architecture of, 207; mosaic floors of, 
2 /I=273 

Roofing, 235, 236 

Roofs, unsightly, 100; increase of slop- 
ing, 236 

Rookery Building, 28 

Roosevelt Hotel (N. Y.), 106 

Root, Elihu, 291 

Root, John W., 4; biographical sketch 
of, 6 

Rowlocks, 218 

Rubbish, from plastering, 260, 261 

Rubble, 208 

Runner, job, 330 

Russ Building (San. Francisco), 31 


St. Bartholomew’s Church, removal of 
facadé Ol," 227 

Saint-Gaudens, Augustus, 48 

St. James Hotel (N.<¥.); 22 

St. Paul’s (London), 26 

Salvage, from old buildings, 124 ff. 

‘Sand hogs,’’ 138 

San Francisco, 11; organized apprentice- 
ship in, 310, 311 


346 


Savoy-Plaza Hotel, the, 5 

Saws, for stone cutting, 205 

Scaffolds, 224, 225 

Scaghola, 275-277 

Schools, craft, 309, 310 

Sheeting, tongue and grooved, 154 

Sherman, William Tecumseh, 4 

Sherry-Netherland Hotel, the, 5, 225 

“Shores,” 424 

Shoring, 128 ff. 

Singer Building (N. Y.), 50, 177 

‘*Skew-backs,’’ 24 

Skyscrapers, distinctly American, 1-3, 
74, 159; beauty of line and form, 3; 
the first, 3; 4, 275.355 pioneers cr, 
4-7, 9; built by the Starretts, 7; early 
history of, 12 ff.; the first steel skele- 
ton, 23; compared with masonry and 
concrete structures, 35; bridge builder’s 
contribution to, 41, 42; criticism of, 
45, 104; centres of cities moved by, 
59; process of building, 63 ff.; con- 
tracting for, 87 ff.; superimposed, 
106-108; genesis of, 114 

Slag, blast furnace, 162, 163, 244; used 
in making cement, 246, 247 

Slip, of terra-cotta, 2230, 343, 234 

Smith Building, L. C. (Seattle), 50 

Sofhits, 241 

Sound-proofing, 245 

Spaniards, tile used by, 278 

Speculation, in skyscrapers, 


109 ff. 


Starrett, Goldwin, 10, I1, I00 
Starrett, Paul, 7, 10 

Starrett, Ralph. Fs 18 
Starrett, Theodore, 10, 29 


Starrett, William A., of a family of 
builders, 6 ff.; ancestry of, 7; parents 
of, 7-9; umiversity degree, 10; as a 
timekeeper, 78-81; as superintendent, 
81 

Starrett & Van Vleck, 7 

Starrett Brothers, 7 

Starrett Building Company, 7 

State Buildings, 19 

State, War and Navy Building (Washing- 
ton), 211 

Statues, Carrara marble, 206 

Steel, in skyscrapers, 35; Bessemer, 36, 
38; development of structural, 36, 49; 
distinction between cast and wrought 
iron and, 36, 40, tested, 38; iron re- 
placed by, 41; open-hearth process, 
41; concrete a contender with, 50; 
frame cut with oxy-acetylene flame, 
124, 125; sheet piling of, 132; process 


INDEX 


of making structural, 161 ff.; cutting, 
170; fabricated, 173, 174; prices of, 
LR ge 

Stereotomy, 208, 409 

Stewart, A. T., the store, 22 

Stone, greatest building material, 190, 
192; splitting, 196, 197; cutting, 197, 
205, 211; Bedford, 199; jointed, 208; 
brick a competitor of, 213; used in 
making cement, 246, 247; used in 
concrete, 250, 251 

Stonework, the finish of, 210; of Lin- 
coln Memorial, 211 

Streets, double deck, 31; shoring of, 
132, 134; bracing, 155, 158 

Strikes, 287, 291 ff. 

Stripping, steel, 164, 165 

Sub-contractors, 238, 239, 322 ff. 

Sullivan, Mark, quoted, 47 

Sumps, 157 

Superintendent, the job, 67, 70, 329 ff.; 
functions of, 254; architects, 316, 317 


Tacoma Building, 32 

Tate (Ga.), marble from, 191 

Telegraph, at Centennial, 16 

Telephone, a curiosity of Centennial, 16 

Tenement districts, second-hand materi- 
als used in, 125 

Tennessee, marble quarries in, 204, 270 

Terra-cotta, 42, 99, 278; architectural, 
224 ff.; process of manufacture, 226 
ff.; special rule for workers, 228; the 
slip, 230, 232, 233; used for interior 
finish, 235 

Terrazzo, 273-275 

Thompson-Starrett Company, 7 

Tiber, travertine quarries on banks of, 
207 

Tile, hollow, 24, 255; roofing, 235, 
236; skew-back, 241; plastering of 
walls behind, 262: for floors and 
wall finish, 278; antiquity of, 278; 
setting, 279 

Timekeepers, 330-333 

T irons, 171 

Tower Building (N. Y.), 44 

Traffic, problem, 104 ff., 338 

Transportation, 335, 337 

Travertine, 207 

Treasurer, builder’s, 333 

Treasury Building (Washington), 211 

Trenches, for retaining walls and un- 
derpinning, 155 

Trenton (N. J.), iron works at, 20 

Trim, 255, 256; steel, 256; quarrel re- 


INDEX 


sulting from substitution of metal for 
wood, 291, 292 

Trinity Church, 3 

Trip-hammer, pneumatic, 149 

Tubes, steel, for foundation work, 25, 
133, 149 ff.; the agitator, 149, 150 

Tufts, Otis, 21 

Tuttle, Morton C., quoted, go, 91 

Twain, Mark, 6 


Underpinning, 80, 130, 132, 134; tube 
method used for, 151, 152 

Union Station (Chicago), 108 

Union Terminal (Cleveland), 108 

Unionism, 287 ff., 307; excluded from 
San Francisco, 310 

Universal Utilities Company, III, 112, 
114 

Ur erty of, 213 


Vanderbilt Hotel (N. Y.), Della Robbia 
Room in, 279 

Van Vleck, Ernest A., 7 

Vault, barrel, 242 

Ventilating, 42, 263, 281 

Vermont, rock in, 192; marble quarries 
in, 270 

Victoria, Queen, 49 

Voussoirs, 241 


Wacker Drive, 11, 31 

Wainscoting, 269, 270 

Wales, } 132, 134 

_ Wall and Hanover Street Building, 71 


347 


Wall-board, 267 

Walls, curtain, 1, 216; .masonry, 12, 
22 if MO8aiC, 2745). partys.) 1325. TC- - 
taining, 155, 156 

Wanamaker’s, 22, 23, 198 

Ward mansion, the, 36 

Washington, 11; zoning laws in, 102 

Washington Monument, 102 

Washington Square (N. Y.), 69 

Water, the enemy of foundation work, 
128 

Water-proofing, membranous,’ 154-156; 
cement, 157; of retaining walls, 252 

Weekly Magazine, The, 9 

Wells, Chicago, 137; sinking, 142, 144 

West Point, 54 

Westminster Abbey, 26, 245 

Westminster Hotel (Boston), 23, 102 

Whistler, 4 

White, Stanford, 16 

Wight, 6 

Wills, ‘Charles T., 34 

Winchester, cathedral, 208 

Wind-bracing, 175, 176 

Windows, metal substituted for wood, 
290, 29I 

Windrim, John T., 34 

Woolworth Building, 45, 50 

World War, work of builders in, 54, 
56, 58 

World’s Fair, 17-19, 45 ff. 


Li Darss 17% 
Zoning law, tor ff. 


wt 


PO TEE ne en ey 


4 


